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NEW SERIES, No. 57. 


Annual Monitor 



Sold isv Headlky Bros., 14, Bisuopsgate Without ; 


Mary Sessions, 30, Coney Street, York ; 


J. AND S. GouGH, Temperance Hotel, Dublin ; 
AND BY the Editor, 

William Robinson, St. Ouens, Weston-super-Mare. 

For 1899, 







In issuing another volume of the " Annual 
Monitor," I am glad that, by the kind and ready 
help of Friends, to whom I tender my sincere 
thanks, I am again able to furnish its pages 
with narratives of christian lives, some of them 
of special interest and instructiveness, and full 
of incitement and encouragement to those who 
read them to seek, by the grace of the same God 
and Saviour, to tread in paths like those in 
which the departed have trodden. The world is 
full of unrest, political, social and spiritual ; and 
it is good to read of those who, in very varied 
positions in life, whether that of the lowly 
mill-hand, or the conspicuous man of affairs, 
have found in whole hearted love to their 
Lord and faithful devotedness to His service, 
their portion of " the rest that remaineth 
for the people of God." Does not the spiritual 
unrest of these closing years of the century 



come as a call from on high to us Friends, to let 
the light of Gospel truth, as it is given to us to 
hold it, shine more brightly among men ? Sacer- 
dotalism is striving to persuade the world, that 
it is through rite and ceremony, involving- 
priestly intervention, that fallen man is to find 
his way of return to God and to the life of God's 
children. To us it is given to grasp and to hold 
forth in all the depth and practical outcome of 
its meaning, the teaching of Jesus, — " it is the 
Spirit that quickeneth (giveth life), the flesh 
profiteth nothing ; the words tliat I speak unto 
you, they are spirit and they are life." The first 
buds of sacerdotalism, in the early centuries of 
Christianity, were but small ; but the outcome of 
their slow but sure growth are the ecclesiasticism 
and priestly systems of to-day. May we, as a 
religious body, be on the watch against the first 
small budding of any such tendency amongst 

William Robinson. 

St. Oueiis, 


Twelfth Month\ 1898. 

Mary Backhouse. 
Joseph P. Drewett. 
Mary Eliott. 
Anna Maria Fox. 
Francis Frith. 
Lucy Gill. 
Susannah Jennings. 
James Kenway. 
William A. Loveless. 
William Nash. 

Arthur Pease. 
Anabella Price. 
Anna S. Procter. 
Richard B. Rutter. 
John Thompson. 
Charles F. Wakefield. 
Theodore West. 
He;nry Wig ham. 
Frederic Wood. 
William LT. Ditzler. 

These memoirs are published on the sole responsi- 
bility of the loriters, their friends^ and tJte Editor. 








Ag-e. Time of Decease. 

Ann Abbatt, 73 20 llmo. 1897 
Bolton. Wife of William Abbatt. 

Thomas Abbatt, 71 27 2mo. 1898 
Bolton, An Elder. 

Anna N. Abbott, 62 14 4mo. 1898 

Henry Abbott, 47 29 3mo. 1898 

Lexden^ Colchester. 

William Adair, 66 1 llmo. 1897 


Thomas Aggs, 75 17 llmo. 1897 

William Allen, 89 31 lOmo. 1897 



Arthur E. Appleby, 29 12 4mo. 1898 


ElCHENDA ASHWORTH, 41 10 6mo. 1898 
Bolton le Moors. Wife of Eobert Ash worth. 

William Atkinson, 32 25 5mo. 1898 


Mary Backhouse, 63 21 lOmo. 1897 

Yorh. An Elder. Widow of James Back- 

Mary Backhouse was the daughter of Isaac 
and Sarah Eobson, and w^as born in Liverpool in 
the summer of 1834. In 1838 the family 
removed to Haddersfield, and a bright happy 
girlhood was spent in that West Eiding town, 
frequent intercourse with her Bradford cousins, 
the children of Benjamin and Esther Seebohm, 
being one of the pleasant memories of her early 
days. These were followed b}^ several years at 
the Quarterly Meeting's School, in Castlegate, 
York, then under the care of Eliza and Catherine 
Stringer, and friendships were formed there which 
lasted for the rest of life. 

In 1855, Mary Eobson was married to James 
Backhouse of York, of whom a memorial notice 
appeared in the " Annual Monitor " for 1891. This 
union introduced her to many and varied interests, 
scientific and intellectual. Many learned men 



found their way to the beautiful home at West 
Bank, where the cultivated conversation from the 
well-stored mind of the host, and the bright warm 
welcome and the genial kindliness of the hostess, 
made the lines seem specially appropriate : — 

Their hearthstone was a broad and pleasant space, 

Where many mingled ; 
Where none for honour or the highest place. 

Apart were singled. 
This their example has bequeathed to others. 
The children of one Father all are brothers. 

Sorrow came to James and Mary Backhouse 
in the loss of children : an infant daughter in 
1870 ; and a son of much promise just entering 
manhood, who was taken from them in 1883 
after a long illness, during which two winters 
had been spent on the Continent in search of 

Keenly as these sorrows touched a most 
affectionate mother, they were not allowed to 
prevent her from entering into the joys and 
sorrows of others ; and her loving sympathy was 
often shown in quiet visits to the homes of 
invalids or lonely friends, where her presence 
was warmly welcomed. Her husband's and son's 
illnesses absorbed her time and energies for 
several years, and her health suffered from the 



strain, so that she was never again able to take 
up some of the active duties she would gladly 
have continued to perforni. At one time, at the 
advice of her doctor, she regretfully declined a 
request to serve on the Board of Guardians. Her 
friends, however, still met the sunny welcome, 
and enjoyed talking with her of the books she 
had been reading, or walks with her in the 
grounds where every turn was connected with 
the happy memories of her early married life, 
and of the hand which had done so much to 
make Art conceal Art. 

In the early spring of 1897, a severe seizure 
of paralj^sis confined Mary Backhouse for some 
time to one room ; but she recovered sufficiently 
to be wheeled into her garden and to take long 
drives, to her great enjoyment. Her sunny 
temperament made the sick-room a pleasant 
place for those who waited on her. She would 
often speak thankfully of her many mercies ; 
and though at times when feeling better, she 
would look to and speak of recovery, we believe 
the end which came so gently on the 21st of 
Tenth Month, 1897, was no surprise to her. She 
knew in whom she had believed. Life had 
meant to her a " going to the Father " ; and 
those who mourn the blank left, and the great 



loss sustained, can give thanks for the reverent 
confidence that for her death meant, to be " for 
ever with the Lord." 

Sarah Bake, 82 22 9mo. 1898 

Mossley Hill^ Liverpool. An Elder. Widow 

of Benjamin Bake. 
Alexander Baker, 29 1 llmo. 1897 

San Salvador. Son of the late James and 

EHzabeth Baker of York. 
George E. Baker, 45 7 llmo. 1897 

HattoUj near Birmingham. 
Morris Baker, 68 1 8mo. 1898 

Harhorne^ Birmingham. 
Thomas Baker, 67 24 5mo. 1898 

Bray^ Co. WicJclow. 
Catherine Bale, 89 10 4mo. 1898 

Stoke Newington. 
Joseph G. Barclay, 81 25 4mo. 1898 

Leyton^ Essex. 
Samuel Barlow, 78 5 4mo. 1898 


Thomas Barlow, 72 23 12mo. 1897 

Sioclcport and Colwyn Bay. 
Annie Baron, 40 4 7mo. 1898 

Sevenoahs. AVife of Richard Baron. 
William R. Barritt, 79 30 9mo. 1898 

St. Augustine's Road^ Camden Square^ London, 



Eachel Barrow, 75 26 8mo. 1898 

JBirJvdale, Southport. 
Anna M. Batt, 83 20 8mo. 1898 

Redland^ Bristol. 
John Beharrel, 62 18 9mo. 1897 


Ben Bentley, 78 21 9mo, 1897 


Philip H. Beer, 16mo. 6 3mo. 1898 

Folkestone. Son of William H. and Norah 
F. H. Beer. 

Margaret Bilton, 73 25 4mo. 1898 

Bradford. "Widow of Edward Bilton. 

Joseph B. Binyon, 89 19 12mo. 1897 


Thomas Blasdale, 65 16 6mo. 1898 


Gustaf Bloomquist, 47 6 Imo. 1898 

Thomas W. Bower, 52 8 3mo. 1898 

Ulver stone. 

John H. Bowman, 35 1 2mo. 1898 

Alport^ near Balcewell. Son of William and 
Elizabeth Bowman. 

Agnes Bracken, 41 5 Imo. 1898 

Preston Patrick. Wife of Thomas Bracken. 



Henrietta W. Brevetor, 79 30 Imo. 1898 

Mary Briggs, 84 11 3mo. 1898 

Stohe Newingto7i. Widow of Benjamin Briggs. 
William Brittain, 65 22 4mo. 1898 

Nevxastle-on- Tyne, 
Harriet E. Brooke, 74 22 12mo. 1897 

West Norv'ood. 
Eliza Brown, 62 17 llmo. 1897 

Cambridge. Wife of William R. Brown. 
Joseph Brown, 77 16 2mo. 1898 

Oxton, Birkenhead. 
Mary Brown, 76 5 lOmo. 1898 

Evesham. An Elder. Wife of William W. 


Elizabeth S. Buck, 72 30 3mo. 1898 
Fo2)lar. Wife of Henry C. W. Buck. 

Frederic Burgess, 60 9 2mo. 1898 


John W. Burne, 27 3 llmo. 1897 

Liveijjool. Son of Joseph Gr. Burne, M.D. 

Maria Burton, 67 2 4mo. 1898 

Didshury. Widow of William Burton. 

Francis Butterfield, 85 23 2mo. 1898 

Emma R. Cann, 52 24 2mo. 1898 




Ethel M. Catchpool, 35 12 7mo. 1898 

Hastings, Died at Madras. 
Charles A. Christy, 33 21 8mo. 1898- 


Timothy J. Collopy, 78 19 12mo. 1897 

Bmmley Road, London. 
George Cooke, 87 19 4mo. 1898- 

Liverpool. An Elder. 
Sarah Cooke, 84 26 3mo. 1898^ 


Ann M. Cotton, 64 2 3mo. 1898 

Sheffield. Wife of Frank Cotton. 
Thomas Crass, 47 15 9mo. 1898- 

South Shields. 
Philip Crawshaw, 65 4 5mo. 1898- 


Alfred B. C. Crowley, 21mo26 8mo. 1898 
Croydon. Son of Alfred C. and M. L. Crowley. 

Ann Davenport, 38 6 2ino. 1898 

Penketh. Wife of William Davenport. 

Christian S. Davis, 78 16 Imo. 1898- 

Thomas Davis, 75 14 6mo. 1898 

Foxrock, Dublin. 
Lydia B. Davy, 65 22 12nio. 1897 

Lincoln. Widow of Dennis Davy. 



Eliza Ann Deane, ' 64 31 3mo. 1898 
York. Died at Cheltenham. Widow of 
William Hack Deane. 

Isaac Dell, 84 6 2mo. 1898 


Lucy M. Dell, 55 31 Imo. 1898 

Bristol. Daughter of Isaac Dell. 
John Dinsdale, 81 7 3mo. 1898 


Caroline Dix, 66 27 7mo. 1898 

Croydon. Widow of Richard J. Dix. 
Mary M. Dixon, 3 2 7mo. 1898 

Coclcermouth. Daughter of William F, and 

Eleanor Dixon. 
Henry Doeg, 24 19 lOmo. 1897 

Chichiey.^ Canada. Son of George W. and 

Sarah Doeg. 

Jane E. Doncaster, 52 23 lOmo. 1897 

Joseph P. Drewett, 62 5 9mo. 1898 


Born at Luton in 1836, the son of the late 
William and Gulielma M. Drewett, the subject 
of this memoir was in boyhood very impression- 
able to kind and gracious influences, and, more 
than many perhaps, to such as come to sensitive 
young minds in hours of public worship. In 



recent years it sometimes surprised his friends to 
hear him refer to sentiments set forth in meeting 
whilst he was a scholar at Ackworth, the influence 
of which had never died out of his life, nor the 
memory of the individuals to whom he was 
indebted for them. His reverence for sacred 
things was probably natural to him, but owed 
much of its early cultivation to his mother, a God- 
fearing woman who carried her religion into 
practical every-day duties in a manner which 
could not fail to have its effect upon her children. 
Of this good mother's counsel and encouragement 
he had the privilege almost down to the end of 
his life, her death preceding his own by only 
one year. 

His choice of a career — that of a teacher — 
was happily in accord with almost every element 
of his character. Its varied associations with 
young life undoubtedly very favourably de- 
veloped the best points of his nature. Having 
passed successfully through his apprenticeship at 
Ackworth School, forming many friendships on 
the way, and a course of study at the Flounders 
Institute, he went upon the staff of the Friends' 
School at Kendal, upon which he remained nine 
or ten years. During his connection with that 
School, his conscientious devotion and loyalty to 



the various duties which fell to him won for him 
the esteem of the members of the house, older 
and younger. His gentleness and his readiness to 
help them in every laudable enterprise quickly 
gained him the regard of the boys, and his 
charitable construction of their defects was often 
warmly appreciated. His heart was so true, and 
discord so hateful to him, that he was led so to 
rule his life that the only source of discomfort or 
unhappiness which ever seemed to oppress him 
•arose from the occasional discovery that his 
dicipline was, for the moment, alienating the 
spirit of an insubordinate one. Then, restless and 
•disturbed by the consciousness that sweetness 
had gone out of his life, he would declare 
how hard it was for him to endure the 
sense of being at variance with anyone. 
He was a very "all round" man. There 
was no department of school-life in which he did 
not manifest interest. Whatever the movement 
of the hour, it was always known by masters and 
boys alike that his support was to be relied on. 
He was full of sympathy with youth. The Friends 
of Kendal were not slow to recognise his worth 
outside the school precincts, and the place he then 
commenced to make in their regard was the fore- 
runner of the still higher appreciation they 



entertained for him, when, after many years, he 
again made his home amongst them. 

He left Kendal after the death of his father, 
in order to assist his mother to conduct the 
business. But the love of his profession was too 
strong to allow him to abandon it, and he, in part- 
nership with Cranston Woodhead, established a 
school at Hitchin. He had, in the meantime, 
married Anne Marshall, the second daughter of 
Samuel Marshall of Kendal. His wife's health 
was, however, too feeble to sustain the cares of 
school-life, and thus obliged Joseph Drewett to 
live in a house apart from the school, whilst his 
partner's wife became responsible for the domestic 
arrangements within the establishment. These 
conditions by no means lessened J. Drewett's 
anxieties or the weight of his responsibilities. 
But the old joy of training young lives was upon 
him, and for the seven years between 1873 and 
1880, he devoted himself to his duties with an ever 
increasing earnestness and sense of their sacred- 
ness. Services ably and zealously performed met 
with their reward in the appreciation of parents 
and the affection of pupils ; but the increasing 
infirmity of his wife, together with other circum- 
stances he could not control, led him to retire 
from active life and settle at Arnside in West- 



niorland, where he was near his wife's relatives 
and the scenes of many cherished associations. 
Here for several years the best of his energy and 
a large proportion of his leisure were lovingly 
devoted to his suffering wife, upon whom a 
creeping paralysis was slowly bat irresistibly 
gaining ground, and which was eventually to 
prove fatal. Yet it was impossible that his 
active mind and his love of doing something to 
the advantage of his fellow-men should be 
altogether confined to the sick room. He saWy 
in the village of Arnside, a need for the working 
classes of greater facilities for intellectual pur- 
suits, and was the chief instrument in the formation 
of the Educational Institute. To the prosperity of 
this organisation he liberally devoted time and la- 
bour down to a very recent date, when one of those 
untoward events, which sometimes intrude into- 
well-regulated lives, led him to sever his active 
connection with it. Finding, some years after 
the foundation of this Institute, that its operations- 
did not extensively reach the class for which its 
benefits were especially intended, Joseph Drewett 
devised a Magazine Society," which should take 
reading into the homes of the people. This ha» 
for many years been widely appreciated, and 
rarely less than thirty families have been members 




of this Society, into whose homes no fewer than 
ten or twelve good periodicals thus regularly find 
their way. 

But Joseph Drewett's most distinguished 
effort to ameliorate men's lives was, perhaps, his 
mission work in a neighbouring hamlet. This 
isolated cluster of cottages was inhabited by a 
peculiar people who rarely connected themselves, 
more than they could help, with other communi- 
ties, and who bore, rightly or wrongly, but a very 
indifferent reputation with their neighbours. A 
clergyman held a little Sunday afternoon service 
in the village school, but the means of awakening 
•spiritual life among the people were of the 
slenderest nature. A good man of light and 
leading, who had settled close by the hamlet, did 
what he could for a few years to improve the 
state of things ; but, when he passed away, the 
old inert condition again settled down upon the 
cottagers. A few excellent Wesleyans of Arnside 
next organised a little religious effort, and out 
of this movement, with which Joseph Drewett 
had much sympathy, grew his scheme for 
-establishing a mission room in the place. Mr. 
Watson of Rochdale, the original inventor of the 
manufacture of silk-plush, found the money for 
the erection of a substantial and commodious 



building ; J. Drewett organised a Sunday morn- 
ing school and a mission meeting for the eveningy 
gradually adding various helpful accessories, the 
latest of which was a successful class for 
carpentry in winter evenings. All these opera- 
tions he sedulously watched, down to the time of 
his death, devoting very considerable time and 
exertion to them personally, in addition to the 
work of organisation. But his labours were not 
confined to the mission room. He was vigilant 
in his interest in the affairs of the individuals of 
the community, frequently visiting their homes, 
doing what lay in his power to alleviate their 
hardships, and to win some of them from evil 
ways. It is neither easy nor necessary to 
tabulate the results of such efforts. It is perhaps 
best to leave the estimate of them to the eye of 
faith. Disappointments many there were of 
course, and compensations sufficient. The words 
of a poor bed-ridden woman, addressed to Joseph 
Drewett, " I think our Saviour walks with you 
reg'lar," will show what manner of personality he 
was to the few more tender-spirited ones of the 
rude little hamlet. Time brought him helpers and 
supporters from the neighbourhood. Upon these 
the continuation of his work will now devolve^ 
and there is no reason to anticipate its failure. 



Without being, in the specialist's sense, a 
scholar or a man of science, Joseph Drewett in- 
terested himself in all such intellectual pursuits 
as his choice of life and work rendered service- 
able to him. In this regard he was eminently 
practical, and his acquirements were always at 
the service of those who could benefit from them. 
He desired few things more than to use his 
talents, and to share with others pleasures at his 
command. In 1887 he paid a visit to the United 
States with William Ransom of Hitchin, the 
enjoyment of which he not only regarded as a 
favour to be thankful for, but, as he wrote on 
his return voyage, as a stimulus, not only by 
word but by a more devoted life to show his 
gratitude to Him who had, through the instru- 
mentality of human means, given him the 
pleasure, and watched over all of them during 
the enjoyment of it. And it was surprising on 
how many subsequent occasions he made this visit 
do duty, in varied ways, in giving pleasure and 
instruction to others. 

Joseph Drewett had his ideals but did not 
rest in them. When an ideal took possession of 
his mind, he hastened to convert as much of it 
as he could into an actuality. He did not allow 
an idea to evaporate in the search for perfection, 



knowing something doubtless of the virtue under- 
lying the old proverb : " The best is the enemy 
of the good." It must be granted that there v^as 
a certain enthusiasm in him which made him at 
times exceedingly tenax propositi. Perhaps this 
was the side of his character which met with 
least appreciation. He saw his side of a question 
in so bright a light that he had sometimes extreme 
difficulty in yielding to the judgment of others 
who differed from him on method or policy. 

His life was built up upon a keen realization 
of its seriousness. There was absolutely no- 
particle of the frivolous in his nature. Yet there 
was a bright and amiable cheerfulness that 
recommended his Christian profession, and made 
him a grata persona to thoughtful people. ' He 
had many close friends among such, and golden 
opinions of him were not hard to find among those 
who knew him well. On religious subjects he 
cultivated a broad charity. His own convictions 
of Christian truth were clear, and his aversion 
from formality and ritual was emphatic, but he 
found no difficulty in associating deep spirituality 
with views widely different from his own. A 
month before his death he wrote to one of his 
sisters : " The divine roof covers all those who 
are honestly seeking to know God, in whatever 



direction they are searching." Some years ago 

he wrote to the same correspondent : " Tell 

not to go by the wisdom of this man or that 
man, but to seek, as Paul tells us, to be ruled by 
the power of God, with no human being between 
us and Him. I believe that God reveals Himself 
and His will to us in different ways, according 
to the nature He has given to us, and that we see 
the truth from a different point from one another ; 
else how could there be true servants of God in 
sections of the church so widely opposed as 
Catholics and Friends ? God will reveal Himself 
through the face of His dear Son through the 
Holy Spirit, if only we are really seeking Him, 
and then nothing can shake us, even if we meet 
with good men holding diverse views." Of one 
thing he was, however, very intolerant. Amongst 
those in whom he interested himself were some 
who occasionally lapsed from the better life into 
which he had been the means of leading them, 
and, in such cases, any reflection upon the offender 
roused his anger. He regarded such censure 
as a proof of mischievous incapacity to comprehend 
the magnitude of the struggle between a man 
and his besetting sin. 

He had for some time a country-house in 
Dentdale, and there also he threw himself into 



the interests of the people, especially of those 
around the old meeting-house at Leayet. His 
character and services were perhaps more appre- 
ciated by none than by the honest-hearted, 
intelligent people of that valley-head, many of 
whom are descendants of Friends, who saw in 
him only what stirred worthy reminders of 
ancestors whose characters they revere. 

In the small gatherings of Friends at 
Arnside, his ministry — thoughtful , unconventional 
and promotive of spiritual seriousness — was much 
valued, and not less so in some neighbouring 
country meetings where his appearance was 
always cordially welcome. 

Although apparently never expressed to his 
friends, there is reason for supposing that he had 
for some time had some apprehension that his 
life would not be a long one, and in writing to 
one of his sisters on Seventh Month 7th of last 
year, he says, in allusion to a brief but rather 
alarming attack of illness : " I feel deeply 
thankful for the so gentle reminder of the need 
of ' working while it is day.'" 

He was able to be present, the following 
month, at the Scarborough Summer School, which 
was to him a time of very great social and 
spiritual enjoyment. He rejoiced in the occasion, 



as one calculated to give courage to the student 
of the Bible, by showing how much richer a truth 
was often substituted for a conventional form of 
it, by a prayerful confronting of difficulties. 
Recognising how disturbing and almost alarming 
to some minds were certain new statements and 
interpretations, he believed that investigations, 
entered upon in a prayerful spirit, were not to be 
feared, and that, eventually, good only could 
proceed from them. For himself, he says by 
letter : " I am humiliated by the evidence that 
many points of Scripture truth I have never really 
studied at all. I have tried to elucidate, and 
now I see that 1 have been in the dark all the 

The brightness of Joseph Drewett's later 
life was much increased by his marriage, in 1892, 
to Deborah Wilson, of Thornton in Craven, 
whose love and sympathy were a great gain to 
his happiness. In her he found one who warmly 
entered into his various interests, who was 
strength to him in hours of disappointment and 
discouragement, and a support and cheer to him 
in whatever he undertook. 

His last illness was very brief. A cold of a 
few days duration was suddenly succeeded by 
eclampsia, aggravated by defective action of the 



heart of some standing, of which a second attack 
within thirty hours proved fatal. 

A favourite thought of his has been expressed 
in a German couplet, the original and a transla- 
tion of which formed the motto of his pocket- 
book : — 

" Let me die before I die, 
That when I die, I may not die." 

Many of those who knew him will be able 
to unite in the sentiment expressed by a friend : 
*'iWe shall always have fragrant memories of 
him, and think of him now as of one whom the 
Lord has looked upon with love, and wanted for 
higher service." 

Thomas Drewry, 85 16 3mo. 1898 


Sarah Dudley, 25 27 lOmo. 1897 

Tipton^ Dudley. Daughter of Richard and the 

late Ann Dudley. 
Helen F. R. DuGuiD, 12 23 12mo. 1897 

Aberdeen. Daughter of John and Jane 


Mary A. Dymond, 66 27 4mo. 1898 

Eedkmd, Bristol. 

George Eastwick, 56 7 l2mo. 1897 

^ Kings Lynn. 



John Elgar, 78 9 2mo. 1898 


Mary Eliott, 85 16 6mo. 1898 

Lishearcl, An Elder. 

Iq preparing this little sketch for the 
" Annual Monitor," it cannot be forgotten how 
deep an interest the beloved subject of it took in 
the little volume, sending it round, year by 
year, to many of her friends, and even last year, 
with the solemn conviction that her name 
would be included in the next. 

Mary Eliott was the second daughter of 
John and Mary Eliott, of Liskeard, and was 
born there on the 3rd of Sixth Month, 1813. 

The advanced age at which she finished her 
course is sufficient in itself to show that 
she belonged to a generation that has nearly 
passed away, the restrictions of whose early 
training might now be thought extreme, and yet 
they helped to mould characters with a capacity 
for philanthropic work, self-denying devotion 
to duty, and earnest endeavour to adorn the 
doctrine of God their Saviour, not to be sur- 
passed amidst the greater advantages of the 
present day. 

The watchful care of -her parents in an es- 
pecially happy home, and the example of her elder 


sister, together with the influence of school life 
at Ashfield, and the intimate friendship with a 
devoted schoolfellow, all, it is believed, had their 
share in attracting her young heart heavenward ; 
and though we have no record of any special 
time of conversion, it was very evident to those 
who knew her, that the love of Christ had early 
won her for Himself, and that it was her earnest 
desire to follow Him. 

Delicate health, for some years after leav- 
ing school, prevented her from entering into 
many things which would otherwise have en- 
gaged her attention. She was mostly confined 
to the house during several winters, and nursed 
as a tender plant not long for this world. Little 
was it then anticipated that she would be the 
only survivor of all the family for many years. 

Never very strong, hers was the mission of 
a quiet life. Her very social nature, which, no 
doubt, had snares and difficulties for her when 
young, was turned to beautiful account as years 
advanced. The blessed gift which had been be- 
stowed upon her of a bright and sunny disposi- 
tion, made her acceptable to older and younger, 
and the cheery welcome of her pleasant smile 
and cordial speech, with an alertness of manner 
peculiarly her own, will not easily be forgotten. 



It seemed to be her special vocation to serve 
her Master by her life and conversation, rather- 
than in conspicuous acts. Full of sympathy, 
and ever thinking of ways in which she could 
help others, she endeavoured, if possible, to jBnd 
the bright side of every character, and to dwell 
on the pleasures rather than the troubles of life . 
The constant flow of little kindnesses was a 
marked feature in her character. She remem- 
bered not only to bestow the well-timed gift, 
but to pay the sympathising call, especially on 
the lonely ones, and any who were in danger of 
being overlooked ; and whether with the poor 
and afflicted, or with those more favoured in 
their outward lot and circumstances, she realised 
that she had "a fellowship with hearts to keep 
and cultivate." And in the little Cornish town 
where she lived and died, a wide-spread feeling 
of loving respect was manifested towards her by 
all classes. 

Though a cheerful brightness will always 
be associated with her memory, it would be a 
mistake to suppose that her life was exempt 
from trial. Most deeply attached to her own 
family, she saw all those who had been as the 
light of her eyes taken from her, and in the case 
of her mother, in a moment, long before her own 


call came. But in the days of sorrow, as in the 
days of sunshine, her trust was that of one whO' 
lived by faith in the Son of God. 

She had an uncommon power for arrange- 
ment, and her advice was so constantly sought 
by the different members of her own family, 
and many others, that she was sometimes play- 
fully styled "the oracle." 

She was a diligent attender of meetings for 
worship as long as able, and the welfare of the 
little meeting at Liskeard, of which she was a 
valued member and Elder, ever lay near her 
heart ; and though she rarely took much vocal 
part, the prayerful earnestness of her spirit was 
felt to be an influence for good. In allusion to 
her and another beloved aged member of the 
Quarterly Meeting who had been recently taken 
home, one wrote : " I have always looked upon 
your aunt and my aunt as two of the especially 
bright lights of our western coterie of Friends ; 
both had a wonderful influence around them, 
and did much towards cementing the different 
elements of our little Society. Now both are 
gone, but the influence for good does not die 
with them, and will long be affectionately 

Though strongly attached to the principles 



of her own Society, and believing them to be in 
accordance with Scripture, she delighted to 
recognise the one bontl of union between real 
Christians of every name, and with many of 
these she had sweet and cheering intercourse. 

Of all departments of philanthropic work in 
which she took an interest the cause of Temper- 
ance held the first place, believing, as she did, 
that but for the curse of drink there would be 
little need for some of the other efforts. She was 
;an active worker for many j^ears, showing her 
sympathy in various ways. Being absent from 
home in 1887, she wrote to the Secretary : 
" Having been a teetotaler for more than fifty 
years, it is a disappointment to me not to be able 
to attend the meetings of the Temperance 
Jubilee, where I shall be with you in spirit, with 
desires that it may prove a time of much profit 
and deep interest. It brings much to my mind 
of dear ones taken to their happy home, who 
worked heartily in this important cause ; and 
though there are times when disappointment 
may arise that more has not been done, at others 
we can say, ' What hath God wrought ! ' " In her 
eightieth year she made an effort to be present 
at the tea she gave annually to the committee 
and a few others, greeting each one on arriving 



with a kindly welcome ; and in a few words of 
reply to an appreciative vote of thanks, she spoke 
of her warm and unabated interest in the cause^ 
alluded to the uncertainty of their ever thus 
meeting again, and urged them " to work while 
it is day." On two occasions she sent letters of 
sympathy, as she could not be present, to the 
meetings of old abstainers held in London, as- 
one of their number. 

Not many weeks before her death she 
received an illuminated address from the Liskeard 
Society on the occasion of their Diamond 
Jubilee, as the only surviving member of those 
who had joined at the commencement. She was 
too ill to see more than one of the deputation^ 
but it was a time of deep and touching interest to 

No sketch of Mary Eliott's character would 
be complete without some reference to the 
individual loving interest she took in the large 
circle of her nephews and nieces of two genera- 
tions. She did not forget any of their birthdays, 
and by her genial sympathy invited their confi- 
dence, and made their joys and sorrows her own. 
" No sweeter or kinder aunt," wrote one of these, 
"could niece or nephew see awaiting them. 
She would welcome us in, and at once ask about 



what she knew was nearest our hearts and 
thoughts." To all her relatives she was the 
same, and many who could lay no claim to 
outward relationship adopted the name ''Aunt 
Mary " as quite the familiar phrase. 

Her prettily embowered Terrace home was 
bright with sunshine, and, in keeping with her 
cheerful disposition, she liked to have attractive 
things around her, as much for the pleasure of 
others as her own. But her heart was not in 
them ; her treasure was in heaven, and she loved 
to draw the thoughts of all to the same blessed 
source from whence her own happiness was 

Her first serious illness was in 1891, and at 
that time a beautiful assurance of acceptance was 
given her, dispelling the fears with which she 
had often been troubled. She almost thought 
she could see the words written on the wall : 
" I have cast all thy sins into the depths of the 
sea." After recovering, she wrote to a niece : 
*'Thou wilt be glad to know that I ventured to 
meeting this morning, and was strengthened to 
return thanks for the many mercies experienced 
since last we met. It did feel good to be per- 
mitted to meet with my friends after an interval 
of nearly eighteen weeks." 



In a little memorandum, dated 1893, she 
wrote : To be found ready is my earnest 
prayer ; and though faith is often low, there are 
times wlien 1 can trust and not be afraid, and 
believe that there is a home prepared for poor, 
unworthy me in my heavenly Father's house.. 
But, oh ! it is all of mercy ; ' Accepted in the 
Beloved,' are words which still give me much< 
comfort. All my nephews and nieces are very 
dear to me. What more can I desire for them- 
and for all, than that we may be favoured to- 
meet in heaven? " 

She had another severe illness from bron- 
chitis and pleurisy in the summer of 1895. In 
reference to the doctor's serious view of her case^ 
she remarked : " It seemed solemn, but I thanked 
God, I could say, it neither alarms nor dis- 
appoints me." She sent a message to a dear 
friend, with whom she had conversed on their 
mutual feeling of shrinking from death, a sort of 
dread of going alone : " I want thee to tell her 
that it is all taken away — quite gone. I feel I 
shall not go alone, my Saviour will go with me." 
And she seemed comforted by what a kind 
friend had told her : " That it would only be like 
going out at the open door of the room." This 
fear, it is believed, never troubled her again. 



She remarked at another time : " I don't think it 
is weli to dwell on the shadow of death, as some 
do. We ought to dwell more on the bright 
side." The expression of her countenance was so 
peaceful ; she said she was thankful to be able 
to leave all. Her outward affairs did not trouble 
her, and she had been glad of the opportunity of 
telling one, who called on business, it was such a 
favour to have no anxiety as to recovery. She 
€0uld say, goodness and mercy had followed 
her all the days of her life, though very 

She described an experience she had one 
night, -when it seemed as if a beautiful right- 
hand of lielp was stretched out to her, with the 
assurance, "I will help thee, yea I will 
strengthen thee, yea I will uphold thee with the 
right hand of My righteousness." This assur- 
ance was clung to, and never forgotten. A little 
message, brought to her by Eufus King, was 
very comforting, and often afterwards referred 
to : " The Lord shall be thine Everlasting Light, 
and the days of thy mourning shall be ended." 
From this time she was unable to attend 
meetings, or to go much beyond the house ; but 
there she was still the same sweet centre of love 
and brightness. 



Towards the end of 1896, symptoms of 
serious disease came on, and she was sometimes 
a little cast down with fears of what might be 
before her ; but the promises were her continued 
comfort and support : " Fear not, for I have 
redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name ; 
thou art Mine. When thou passest through the 
waters, I will be with thee," etc. "Fear thou 
not, for I am with thee, be not dismayed, for I 
am thy God," etc. 

On seeing the likeness of a dear nephew, 
who had lately passed away, she said, so 
tenderly: "My dear, I shall be the first to see 
thee." And then, after a little sleep, she awoke 
¥/ith her favourite lines : 

" In the furnace God maj^ prove thee. 

Strive to bring thee forth more bright, 

But will never cease to love thee, 
Thou art precious in His sight. 

God is with thee, 

God thine everlasting Light." 

She would so often greet her friends with 
the words, " Oh, give thanks unto the Lord for 
He is good, for His mercy endureth for ever," 
and "Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is 
within me, bless His holy name." And then 
she would dwell on the joys of heaven, with the 



words : " In Thy presence is fulness of joy, and 
at Thy right hand there are pleasures for ever- 
more." All doubts and fears seemed dispelled 
by the sense of peace granted : " He hath heard 
me in my low estate, and now He hath comforted 

The sense of the love of God as a tender 
Father came home to her more preciously than 
ever. She felt His presence very near, with the 
assurance, " Fear not, my child, I will take care 
of thee." " I did feel very ill," she remarked on 
one occasion, " but the Saviour seemed to light 
up (the path) for me, and the assurance came 
sweetly over and over again, ' Accepted in the 

Contrary to expectation, she was able to get 
downstairs again almost daily during the follow- 
ing summer and autumn. Through that time, 
and long after she was confined to her room, she 
loved to welcome her many friends, entering, as 
she had ever done, into their joys and sorrows, 
anxious to turn every opportunity to account, 
and when alluding to her own sufferings, 
generally with some cheerful reservation, " But 
that is passed now," or "Better to-day, thank God." 

It was rather remarkable how, with her 
great shrinking from being nursed by stranger 



hands, she was spared that trial ; for during the 
eighteen months of her slow decline, loving 
nieces, who had distant homes of their own, were 
able, one after another, to come and share for 
weeks together the sweet privilege with her own 
devoted attendant ; and the one especially who 
had been almost like a daughter was with her 
many times, and through the last seven weeks to 
the end. 

On one occasion, calling her niece and her 
attendant to her bedside, she said : I have been 
shedding tears of gratitude. It seemed as if my 
dear, loving Father said to me, ' My child, I will 
come and take thee to be with Me for ever,' and 
it was accompanied by such sweet peace." 

On her niece going to her one morning, after 
an alarming symptom had come on in the night, 
she said : " It was almost too precious to tell, but 
she had seemed to see her Saviour at the bedside, 
with a beautiful countenance and a halo round 
His head, and He said, ' I have loved thee with 
an everlasting love, therefore with loving-kind- 
ness have I drawn thee.' " 

The pain and weakness gradually increased, 
and for the last few months she was quite 
confined to her bed ; but those who were with 
her during the attacks of pain, so distressing to 



witness, can never forget how she was enabled 
to praise God in the midst of severe suffering, 
and to say, " He doeth all things well." When 
scarcely able to speak from the bodily distress, 
she would comfort herself with the lines : 

" In His arms He'll take and shield thee. 
Thou wilt find a solace there." 
And yet she often longed to depart, and would 
say, " I hope you will all thank God w^hen I am 

She often derived much comfort and enjoy- 
ment from a mental picture which she seemed 
to see on the wall opposite her bed, of a 
beautiful garden — more beautiful than any 
earthly garden she ever saw, and in it the last 
two of her very dear ones who had been taken 
home. Once she spoke of gates to the garden ; 
and some weeks after she said the gates were 
opened ; and, so often, in reference to it, she 
would repeat with much feeling the text : The 
Lord will comfort Zion, He w^ill comfort all her 
waste places ; He will make her wilderness like 
Eden, and her desert like the garden of the 

She was so thankful for any little alleviation 
in her illness, and often spoke of the words, 
" He stayeth His rough wind in the day of His 



east wind." On one occasion, seeing her atten- 
dant distressed at witnessing her sufferings, she 
comforted her with, " When the waves thereof 
arise Thou stillest them," but wanted her to 
know that it was God who made her feel this, 
adding, " If it was only Mary Eliott, I might be 
inclined to half murmur ; but instead of that He 
enables me to say, ' Praise God from whom all 
blessings flow; " 1.429601, 

One day she prayed that the Lord in His 
own good time would take her safely home, 
asking " that the suffering might be lessened, as 
much as is consistent with Thy holy will. 
Though the way has been rough, there have 
been smooth places, for which I return Thee my 
hearty thanks." At another time she prayed, 
"That I may feel Thy presence, and that the 
suffering may be lessened as I draw near the 
end, that I may be able to praise Thee on the 
banks of deliverance." This petition was 
mercifully granted. At another time, " It is a 
trial, as Thou knowest, but wilt Thou be with 
me in the very depths." And again, " Wilt 
Thou answer the many prayers that have been 
put up for me in this room, and in Thy own 
good time say it is enough, and take Thy poor 
unworthy child to be with Thee for ever." 



On hearing the hymn, " Oh how He loves," 
she remarked, " We may well say what love ! " 
and then spoke of the comfort of mind she felt : 
" Oh that men would praise the Lord for His 


After a very bad night, she spoke of 
feeling very poorly, but added, " Jesus is 
precious to my soul." The next day she said, 
" Better and brighter — more comfortable in my 
soul — the assurance given, ' I will fulfil all that 
I have promised thee.' 

Though painful at present, 

'Twill cease before long, 
And then, oh how pleasant 

The conqueror's song. 

"Be sure, my dear, don't talk gloomily to 
the children about Aunt Mary — tell them she is 
happy in heaven." 

To one who called when she was very weak, 
she said so brightly, "I am nearing my happy 
home, won't it be lovely ? " Another day, when 
under the weight of illness, she said , " It is a 
heavy trial, but I am helped,'' and again, " Think 
of what my Saviour suffered for me." 

One evening she said the enemy was still 
permitted to worry her. She feared tha t in some 
of the things which she had done, she had 



thought more of the praise of men than the 

praise of God ; but she took comfort from the 

words which were repeated, " I have cast all thy 

sins into the depths of the sea." She asked for 

the cxxi. Psalm, and when it was finished, said, 

"Praise God !" 

When reminded of the near approach of her 

birthday, she said, " Wouldn't it be beautiful to 

spend it in heaven ? " The next day she told 

the doctor she was nearing home. " Yes," he 

replied, "almost within reach": to which she 

added, " Won't it be beautiful ! " She spoke of 

" the gentle letting down," and afterwards alluded 

to the enemy having worried her yesterday, but 

now I could fancy my dear loving Father said 

to me, " I have sent him away." At another 

time she said, "Though I have had a good deal 

of pain, I have been favoured with a good portion 

of peace. ' My peace I leave with you, My peace 

I give unto you.' " And again, " Oh magnify 

the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name 

together." " The Lord has been very good to 

me all my life through, and now in my old age 

He has not forsaken me : 

"He who has helped me hitherto, 

Will help me all my journey through, 
And give me daily cause to raise 
Fresh ebenezers to His praise." 




On her eighty-fifth birthday, though very 
ill, she was able to take some pleasure from the 
man}^ letters and messages of love, and flowers 
which were sent her ; she w^as full of praise that 
day, and uttered fervent thanksgiving for the 
blessings of a long long life, for her Heavenly 
Father's goodness ; "and most of all," she added, 
" for the life and sacrifice of Thy dear Son." 
She said, "I am afraid, when I am gone, some 
may say too much about me. I want them to 
know, that in any little thing I have done, it 
was not Mary Eliott, but the grace of God 
enabling me to do it." 

From this time the pain lessened, and the 
weakness increased. One night, when told that 
she was "almost home," she whispered, "Tell 
my friends that I have a good prospect, but I 
am too weak to say much." Hymns still brought 
the dear sufferer much comfort ; and now, every 
night, she asked to have repeated to her the 
children's hymn : 

" Jesus tender Shepherd hear me. 
Bless Thy little lamb to-night," 
and when her voice was so extremely weak that 
it was difficult to hear anything she tried to say, 
the words were caught, " Say the little hymn." 
Strangely sweet and appropriate, during those 



last nights, when she was passing through the 
valley, seemed the words : 

" Through the darkness be Thou near me, 
Keep me safe till morning light." 

Soon after the dawn came, on the 16th of 
Sixth Month, she peacefully slept away, to awake 
where the morning is without clouds, neither will 
there be any more pain. 
Sophia Ellis, 60 

Blahy, near Leicester. 
Elizabeth Enock, 69 

Sihford Goiver. An Elder 


Elizabeth Eyles, 75 22 Imo. 1898 

Presto?/. Wife of John Eyles. 

30 8mo. 1898 

16 9mo. 1898 
Widow of John 

John Fairbrother, 
Eathgar, Duhlin. 

Mahala Fenton, 

Leslie Ferguson, 

63 12 Imo. 1898 

96 15 7mo. 1898 

17mo. 1 

Son of John A. 

8mo. 1898 
and Hannah 



Mary Firth, 72 12 2mo. 

Shepley^ near Highflatts, An Elder. 
Katharine M. Fitz-Gerald, 

43 4 3mo. 1898 

Croydon. Wife of Alexander Fitz-Gerald. 



Anna Maria Fox, 81 18 llmo. 1897 

PenjerricJc, near Falmouth. An Elder. 

Anna Maria Fox was the elder daughter of 
Rohert Were and Maria Fox. She was born at 
Falmouth, 21st of Second Month, 1816, and died 
at her home, Penjerrick, near Falmouth, 18th of 
Eleventh Month, 1897. 

It is difficult to trace in a short memoir the 
history of a long life full of activity and useful- 
ness ; but the principal object of the " Annual 
Monitor" is not so much to give the history of a 
life, as to point out what God's grace does for 
human life, when it is made the great motive 
power from childhood to the grave. 

In pondering over what must have been 
Anna Maria Fox's early mental history, the 
thought strikes us that she had early resolved 
that " whatsoever things are true, whatsoever 
things are honest, whatsoever things are just, 
v^hatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things 
are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report " 
— she would not merely think of these things, 
but would make it her daily quest to seek after 
and to do them. 

Brought up by parents whose mental cul- 
ture, refinement, and Christian character made 
them remarkable far beyond their own family 



circle, Anna Maria Fox had for her most choice 
and close companion her sister Caroline (whose 
memoirs have been so cleverly edited by Horace 
Pym).'"' Her clear perception and cultivated 
mind were joined to a most loving and lovable 
nature, united with deep religious feeling. She 
had also the delightful companionship of her 
brother Barclay, one of the most charming men 
of his day, who associated with Thomas Carlyle, 
John Stuart Mill, Frederick Maurice, John 
Sterling, Dr. Calvert, William Edward Forster, 
Charles Kingsley, and other thinkers. From 
these men, probably, he received some of those 
views of a happier condition for the w^orking 
classes, which stimulated his sisters' efforts to 
help their poor neighbours. Such attempts at 
that time seemed to many unpractical ; but 
thanks partly to the exertions and perseverance 
we are recording, some of these dreams have 
passed into the region of visions fulfilled. 

The philanthropic world was thus opened to 
A. M. Fox's sight. The literary and scientific 
world also came before her, through her father s 
and her brother's friendships, and through the 

* "Memories of Old Pricnds : Caroline Fox," Horace N. 
Pym, 1882. Smith, Elder & Co. 



many interesting acquaintances which the family 
circle made among the searchers after truth in 
Nature at the various meetings of the British 
Association. Indeed, their friends and visitors 
included many of the most distinguished men 
and women of their time. 

Strong religious conviction seems early to 
have impressed upon Anna Maria Fox that the 
world, so full of sin and darkness, could only be 
solidly improved by becoming Christ's kingdom. 

She and her sister, as young women, were 
both attractive and graceful. Anna Maria's 
active mind and body found no hours too long, 
and no exertion too heavy or too great, to carry 
out the object she had in view. She was evi- 
dently determined to act her part in " making 
the world better than she found it." 

She adopted by conviction the religious 
principles in which she had been brought up. 
She was a Friend at heart ; a regular and earnest 
attender of Friends' meetings for worship, in 
which sometimes her voice was heard in loving 
exhortation, or more frequently in humble, 
fervent, and very reverent prayer. She was 
seldom absent from meetings held in the service 
of the Church, in which she took a quiet part^ 
often with a good and appropriate addition, and 



sometimes with a proposed omission, happily sug- 
gested, to some draft report or minute. 

Hers was no narrow Christianity. She 
cordially welcomed to his new sphere of the 
bishopric of Truro, Benson, afterwards Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury ; and a life-long friend- 
ship with him and his gifted wife was the 
result. The Nonconformist minister, with his 
personal trials and his church troubles, might 
often be found receiving both sympathy and 
help in the drawing-room at Penjerrick. 

It is almost impossible to enumerate the 
many objects of her thought and care. She was 
seldom absent from the annual meeting of the 
Falmouth Auxiliary Bible Society. When in 
London in Fifth Month, she travelled from 
meeting to meeting with an assiduity which few 
had the strength or zeal to undertake. 

In Falmouth, the number and variety of her 
objects would have alarmed anyone not possessed 
of her activity and indefatigable zeal. The poor, 
whether in their cottages or in the workhouse, she 
had indeed always with her. The Sailors' Home, 
where her knowledge of foreign tongues made 
her presence invaluable, was a constant call ; 
the British School, at work or at prize-giving ; 
the Coffee Tavern, to keep the poor sailors whilst 


in port from the orgies of the public-house ; all 
these had not merely her countenance and sub- 
scription, but her never-failing personal atten- 
dance with a punctuality seldom attained, but 
which is essential to the accomplishment of the^ 
objects desired in a busy life. 

The "Maria Camilla" Training School for 
poor girls must not be lost sight of. It was 
started with funds earned as subsistence money 
for bringing home shipwrecked sailors, by a. 
Portugese ship of that name, which the owners 
declined to accept. For many j^ears this useful 
institution had her constant care. 

The poor in surrounding villages had much 
of her personal thought and presence, and the 
little Mission Room which she put up in Budock 
village was always very dear to her heart. In 
addition to the religious services therein, it has 
been the scene of many a brilliant lecture, given, 
by members of her rare circle of friends and 

A quiet little Bible class and mothers' 
meeting held weekly at Bareppa, a village not 
far from Penjerrick, was conducted by her for 
many years, and the members looked upon her a& 
their unfailing friend. 

The care of the blind was specially dear to- 
her, as it had been to her sister. 



The drawing-room meetings at Penjerrick^ 
most skilfully arranged by her, were quite a 
feature in her life, and dealt with many catholic 
objects : The Universities' Mission to Africa, 
Mc All's 'French Mission, the Missions to the 
Jews, Miss Weston's Sailors' Institutes, Women's 
work. Prevention of Cruelty to Children and 
Animals, and the great causes of Peace and 
Temperance, all found beneath the roof tree of 
Penjerrick welcome sympathy and aid. 

One instance of her generosity must not be 
omitted : The Rector's Rate at Falmouth, levied 
under an old Act of Charles II., up to one and 
fourpence in the pound, had long been a 
grievance to all classes. Many Friends objected 
to it on principle, and declined to pay it, and 
had their goods seized and sold. At one of these 
distraints a large quantity of furniture was taken 
from the house of one of her younger relations, 
and sold by auction. Anna Maria Fox's agent 
attended the sale, and bought it. In the evening 
it reached its previous location. A note was left, 
asking the recipients " kindly to give it house 
room until she required it." 

Anna Maria Fox, her sister, and father were 
not unfrequent travellers abroad. In 1863 they 
went to Spain, with the representatives of 



other countries, to intercede for the release of 
Matamoros, who had been imprisoned on account 
of Protestant views. Caroline Fox records they 
accomplished more than their most sanguine 

In 1880 Anna Maria Fox visited the Holy 
Land with three lady friends, and brought back 
treasures of local recollections to throw light on 
Bible passages. In 1884 she had a most 
interesting visit to Canada and the United 
States, on the occasion of the meeting of 
the British Association at Montreal. The follow- 
ing year she visited many of the West Indian 

In a sketch like this we may be allowed to 
dip a little deeper into the more sacred inner 
and home life of so interesting a character. 

" Trials must and will befall, 
But with humble faith to see 
Love inscribed upon them all, 
This is happiness to me." 

The sorrows of her own life no doubt made 
her the w^arm, sympathising friend that so many 
found her. In 1844 her dear brother Barclay 
was married at Darlington, amidst the congratu- 
lations of two large family circles, to Jane 



'Gurney, the eldest daughter of Jonathan and 
Hannah C. Backhouse. The charm of the 
bride's presence and manner, and her high tone 
of character were widely known ; and with such 
a husband as Barclay Fox, there seemed every 
hope of a long united life of usefulness and 
happiness. In 1855 Jane Gurney Fox was left 
a widow ; her husband had been suddenly seized 
with a fresh attack of the chest disease for 
which he had sought the milder climate of 
Egypt. He died in a temporary resting place 
in one of the old rock tombs on the borders of 
the desert. He was buried in a cemetery near 
Cairo ; a slab of Cornish granite, sent out from 
home, marks the spot. But how much hope, 
love and aflfection were buried in that grave no 
tongue can tell. Barclay Fox's widow, four sons 
and one daughter became the loving care of his 
family. In 1858 Maria Fox, A. M. Fox's dearly 
loved mother, passed away. In 1860 Jane G. Fox 
was laid to rest under the tall, dark cypresses of 
the cemetery at Fau, to which neighbourhood she 
had gone in search of health. Robert Were Fox 
and his two daughters made a home for the 
orphan boys, so much endeared to them, whilst 
their sister lived with her uncle Edmund 
Backhouse (and is now the widow of Horace 



Pym, who compiled the excellent memoir of her 
aunt Caroline Fox). Through all these bereave- 
ments the faith of Anna Maria Fox never failed 
her, but it was often with a sad heart that she 
bravely carried on her chosen v^ork. 

In 1871 came the greatest sorrow of her life. 
Caroline, her companion sister, had for some 
time been gradually fading, and in the early 
spring of that year she died. For the next six 
years Anna Maria Fox was the devoted com- 
panion of her aged but still active father, and 
after his death in 1877, for twenty-one years she 
lived at Penjerrick, making it a haven for her 
kindred or friends. There was no change in her 
work ; she was still as bright and cheerful, still 
gave as warm a welcome as when she was 
surrounded by those so dear to her ; always 
ignoring herself and her own cares, and giving 
every visitor her sympathy in theirs, her converse, 
and her hospitality. 

One who knew her intimately describes her 
thus most accurately : — " I have often admired 
her wonderful tact, in always appearing to be at 
leisure. This was quite a talent ; for, however 
many irons she had in the fire, her beautiful 
courtesy enabled her to seem always free to 
listen to the most tiresome or the most insignifi- 



cant people, especially if they wanted any tiling 
of her." 

Few episodes in the life of her friends 
could be more treasured than a visit to Penjerrick 
on a summer's afternoon — hearing and sharing 
in her conversation, illustrated by many portfolios 
of pictures and her own excellent sketches — 
looking down the lovely lawn, planted with trees 
sent to her father from all parts of the globe — 
hearing the history of each, its habits and its 
development — watciiing the sunlight strike the 
passing sail on the not far distant sea ; whilst 
the parrot, the cat, the dog, and the marmoset 
shared her kind word or the caress of her hand. 
Then came this walk to her Convalesent Home, 
about a quarter of a mile away ; a few minutes 
with the matron, a chat with each patient, a 
word of cheer and hope, and she would sit down 
quietly and either read herself or ask her visitor 
to read out of her well used Bible ; then her 
quiet " good bye," and off home, and out again be- 
fore long for some evening meeting or social duty. 

Age crept quietly upon her. The sight failed 
graduall}^, but there was no complaint. Her 
mental powers were clear to the last day of her 
life ; her self-eifacement and loving thought 
for others characterised her dying bed. 



She was buried in the pretty, quiet, country 
Priends' burial ground at Budock, near her 
father's and mother's resting place, and beside 
that sweet sister Caroline, on whose grave she 
had tended the roses through six and twenty 
years of separation. 

Such is a short history of the life of Anna 
Maria Fox. It was beautiful in its simplicity, 
edifying in its humble faith, wonderful in its 
activity for many good objects. By the grace 
of God through her long life she never deviated 
from one straight road — the way that leads to 
that crown " laid up for all those who love the 
Lord J esus Christ in sincerity." 

^' So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still 
Will lead me on, 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 

The night is gone. 
And with the morn those angel faces smile, 
Which I have loved long since, and lost 

Joseph John Fox, 

Muswell Hill. 
Hiram France, 

Oeorge V. Frankish, 

Oldhury^ near Dudley 

76 15 12mo. 1897 
60 30 llmo. 1897 
54 4 6mo. 1898 



Mary D. Freestone, 79 20 7mo. 1898 

Francis Frith, 75 25 2mo. 1898 

Reigate, A Minister. 

Francis Frith, the only son of Francis and 
Alice Frith, was born at Chesterfield, Derbyshire^ 
on the 7th of Tenth Month, 1822. 

At an early age he was sent to school at 
Birmingham, to William and Hannah Lean ; and 
afterwards, according to the custom of the times^ 
he was bound apprentice to William Hargreaves^ 
cutler, of Sheffield. When Francis Frith was 
about nineteen years of age, William Hargreaves 
was called avvay to Scotland on very important 
business, which threatened to seriously involve 
him, leaving the whole care and management of 
the Sheffield business in the hands of his young 
apprentice. This duty he fulfilled to the entire 
satisfaction of his employer. But the strain 
upon him was too great, and for a long while his 
health and nervous system suffered seriously, and 
a time of deep spiritual depression followed. 
Then occurred the great change of his life, which 
he ever after looked upon as a most wonderful 
manifestation of his Heavenly Father's love and 
condescension. He never kept a journal, but 
in a poem he was writing only a short time 



before his death, he thus describes the 
transition : 

Much, then, in dire extremity, I mused 
On sin, and judgment, and the after life. 
No man, I think, laid to my charge ill deed ; 
But my own heart condemned me, and I knew 
That if forgiveness and good hope should come, 
And a clear vision of the way of Life, 
They must come straight from heaven, no lower 
source ! 

The river that can slake a spirit thirst. 
Must be the crystal from the throne of God. 

Doubtless, I said. He will reveal Himself : 

But will He come as Judge implacable. 

Or as the Father, in Christ's parable, 

Took to His arms and heart the wanderer ? 

Often, deep sunk in torrent of my woe, 

I passionately echoed " God is love ! " 

He gives His best to man ! He gave His Son ! 

Save me, Son of God, most merciful ! 

Heal my sick soul, as Thou wert wont to heal 

The fever-stricken folk in Galilee. 

In vain ! Was ever prayer in vain. 

If God but gave the grace to utter it ? 

Whilst yet the prison gloom clung round my 

And Hope was preening her dusk wing for 

A gentle sense of pardon and of peace 



Stole over me, I asked not wheDce or how. 
If, waking from a troubled night of storm, 
You can mistake, with open eyes, the dawn 
Of a fair cloudless day. If Lazarus 
Could doubt the Voice that called him from the 
tomb ; 

Then, in that perfect calm of reasoned sense, 
Might I have doubted my deliverance. 

I know not if 'twere as a lightning flash, 

Or if for hours the blissful transport grew. 

It was no vision, no ecstatic trance. 

O'er mastering the sense of common life ; 

But rather as a noiseless breath that stirs 

The summer leaves, that tiie glad summons came 

To my astonitihed ear, to rise and go 

Straight to the Father's arms, who welcomed me, 

day of days ! the birthday of my soul ! 
Oft as my pen has trembled o'er these lines, 
My inmost heart has bowed in reverence 
And tearful gratitude to Christ my Lord, 
Who showered such joy on His poor prodigal. 

After a time of complete relaxation and 
travel, and when his health was re-established^ 
Francis Frith commenced business in Liverpool 
as a wholesale grocer. In a few years this was 
relinquished. His love of Nature, and his desire 
to see fresh scenes tempted him to the East, " to 
the home of the Pharaohs, the land of the Nile." 



He was the first Englishman to photograph its 
temples and scenery. Besides the beautiful 
pictures he brought back, he collected a number 
•of old Egyptian and Greek legends, which he put 
into verse to enliven a lecture he afterwards 
wrote to describe the journey up the river, and 
which he gave on various occasions, dressed in 
his Eastern costume, to schools and other 

On his marriage in 1860, Francis Frith 
settled in Reigate as a photographic printer and 

He first spoke as a minister in the year 
1867, and was recorded as such by his Monthly 
Meeting. He travelled in Scotland and in 
Cornwall and Suffolk with the Yearly Meeting's 
Committee, and made many journeys with his 
beloved friend William Pollard, in the cause of 
Peace, which was very dear to his heart ; often 
on First-day afternoons addressing large congre- 
gations, when the loan of a chapel could be 
obtained. He also, at various times, visited the 
families of Friends in different meetings, and 
gave lectures on the distinguishing characteristics 
of the Society. Many testimonies have been 
received to the help his ministry has aflEorded. 
One Friend writes : " As one who had for many 



years the privilege of listening to Francis Frith, 
I should be glad to express to you my deep 
sense of the value his preaching has been to me, 
and the great personal loss that I feel in knowing 
that I shall not listen again on this earth to his 
stirring and yet loving words of counsel and 
encouragement. It may be well that there 
should be different kinds of preachers, to reach 
the different kinds of mind and character. He 
certainly reached mine ; and it seemed to me, if 
I may be permitted to say so, that he had the 
true Friendly power and spirit which appeals to 
the best side of a man's character, to the 

witness within," and instead of treating his 
hearers as being, in large measure at least, in the 
wrong way, seeks to inspire them and lead them 
onwards in the upward path." 

Francis Frith was from his earliest youth 
keenly alive to the beauties and influences of 
Nature ; and in his later life, when unable from 
failing health to engage in much active service, 
he found great relief and refreshment in sketch- 
ing the picturesque scenery of the Riviera? 
where, with some members of his faniily, he 
spent his last ten winters. His health gradually 
became more feeble ; he suffered intensely at 
times from most distressing sleeplessness ; but 



those who saw him in his home life can testify 
to the unfailing sweetness and patience with 
which he bore his many infirmities. A lady, an 
occasional visitor, wrote after his death : " Mr. 
Frith always struck me as being so eminently 
ready to go, and as having such an intensely 
real faith in another life. He always struck me 
as not only believing but acting as though this 
life were merely the preparation for another 
fuller, higher life." It was this faith, to the 
shield of which he says, " I cling till death," 
that was an anchor to his soul, sure and steadfast. 

The end came suddenly and unexpectedly 
to the watchers. A few days of great suffering, 
then relief from many of the more distressing 
symptoms of his illness, and comparative ease 
and comfort, and the hope of recovery ; when, 
without a struggle, and with his head resting on 
the bosom his love had so infinitely blessed for 
nearly thirty-eight years, he passed to " where 
beyond these voices there is peace." 

He was laid to rest in the beautiful Cannes 
cemetery on the 28th of Second Month, 1898, 
many friends of different nationalities testifying 
to the love and regard in which they held him. 
Joseph S. Fry, 85 16 Imo. 1898 

Purleighj Essex. 



Robert Garside, 62 11 6mo. 1898 


Ann Gilchrist, 82 28 5mo. 1898 

Grange^ Co. Doioii. 
Lucy Gill, 51 22 7mo. 1898 

Achivortli. Wife of Joseph John Gill. 

The oft-quoted words, " In the midst of life 
we are in death," were sadly exemplified in the 
sudden removal of Lucy Gill in the prime of a 
happy and useful life. A severe illness in the 
early spring, which appeared at one time to bring 
her very near to the confines of eternity, warned 
her friends that the thread of her life was but 
loosely held. Yet she seemed to be making a 
very satisfactory recovery ; and the change from 
Ackworth, at the school vacation, to the rest and 
quiet of her old home in Surrey, was apparently 
bringing complete restoration to health. Her 
medical advisers had recommended sea air, and 
a trip to the Channel Islands was contemplated. 
Before starting, a day was to be spent at 
Brighton ; and those who were with her there 
noticed how exceptionally bright and active she 
appeared. The fine sea air always invigorated 
her, and she enjoyed a walk on the front, and 
finally went on the West Pier, to accompany to 
the steamer her brother and some of her children 



who were going for a short sea trip, intending to 
return honae with her husband. But shortly 
before the departure of the boat, she was suddenly 
stricken down by an epileptic seizure, similar to 
one she had had three months previously ; but 
this time there was to be no recovery. She was 
carried to the house of some kind friends in the 
town, who had known her from girlhood, and 
there she lay in a state of almost entire uncon- 
sciousness for nearly three days, till she was 
released by the hand of death. Pneumonia had 
set in, and in spite of the best medical advice 
and the unremitting care of skilled nurses, her 
breathing rapidly became more and more laboured 
and her strength ebbed away. 

Her remains were laid to rest in the quiet 
little graveyard adjoining the Ifield Meeting- 
house, on the borders of Surrey and Sussex, 
where she reposes amongst her own people, her 
grave being next to that of her father who died 
only. two years before her, at the ripe age of 95, 
nearly double the span of life alloted to his only 

Lucy Gill was born at Crawley, in the 
autumn of 1846. Her parents were old-fashioned 
Friends, and she was inclined in her younger 
days to chafe a little at what she regarded as the 



unnecessary restrictions imposed upon her ; but 
she was ever ready, in after life, to acknowledge 
the great debt of gratitude she owed them for 
the guarded home-training she had received. 
She was educated at the Friends' School at 
Croydon, and al ways retained most pleasant memo- 
ries of the happy days she spent there. 

After spending some years at home, assisting 
in the ordinary duties of housekeeping, and 
learning from the efficient teaching of her mother 
those lessons in thrifty housewifery which were 
to be so valuable to her in years to come, she 
was married in 1874 to Joseph J. Gill, who was 
then establishing a private boarding school at 
Kedhill, near Reigate, within a few miles of her 

In this new sphere her talent for household 
management found ample scope, and she efficiently 
assisted in the teaching of some of the younger 
boys. After ten years the school was transferred 
to other hands ; and the handsome present of a 
service of plate from her old scholars, together 
with the kindly words which accompanied it, bore 
testimony to the love and esteem with which she 
was regarded by those who had been entrusted 
to her walcl)ful care ; and since her decease, one 
of them, writing from Denver City, says ; 


" How well I remember her dear, cheerful way 
of encouraging me ; how she used to sit by my 
bedside, and talk with me, as very few but a 
mother would have done." 

After leaving Redhill, the family removed to 
Croydon, and here, as her husband was engaged 
in private teaching, she was free from the cares 
of school-keeping, and was able to devote herself 
more fully to the charge of her five children, and 
found some leisure for other interests, such as 
temperance and political work. She was, for 
several years, an active member of the Croydon 
branch of the British Women's Temperance 
Association, and she soon became one of the 
vice-presidents of the Croydon Women's Liberal 
Association, and president of the Central Ward. 

These activities were seriously interrupted 
by a severe illness, which confined her to her 
room for about eighteen months ; but she con- 
tinued to take an intelligent interest in the course 
of events in the outside world, being particularlj^ 
attracted by social questions ; and for some years 
she was a member of the Fabian Society. 

On her husband's appointment to a post at 
Ackworth School, the family removed thither in 
the summer of 1891. She very much felt the 
change from the active life of Cro^^don, with its 



many and varied interests, to the more restricted 
sphere at Ackworth ; but she always greatly 
appreciated her connection with the intellectual 
and social life of the school, and highly valued 
the friendships that were formed during her 
seven years' membership in Ackworth Meeting. 

Though naturally of a serious turn of mind^ 
and viewing life, perhaps, rather more from the 
side of its responsibilities than of its pleasures,, 
she readily threw herself into the spirit of 
innocent recreation, and was always the life and 
soul of any party of boys or girls which met at 
her house. She was ever " smart " at games 
requiring skill, and at one time was very fond of 
cards, but the knowledge that one of her former 
pupils had gone astray from a love of gambling^ 
decided her never again to touch a card, lest by 
her example she should be failing to ''avoid all 
appearance of evil." 

Lucy Cheal had never taken any prominent 
part in religious service, though she did at times 
confess to a feeling of condemnation for having 
omitted to say a few words in meetings for 
worship. But she felt that her chief service lay 
in the quiet example of a life devoted to her own 
domestic duties, whilst not neglecting to take 
advantage of opportunities for privately saying a 
" word in season." 


Her great desire for her children, and for all 
who were dear to her, was that they might know 
the same assurance of acceptance through the 
Saviour that she herself experienced, and that 
their lives might be wdiolly devoted to His 
service. For this she often most earnestly 
pleaded at the family altar. 

Her ministry in her own household, both 
by the ever present example of an entirely unself- 
ish devotion to duty — often hard and distasteful, 
and performed amidst much physical weakness 
and suffering — and the consistent walk with God, 
evident both in word and deed, has been such as 
can never be effaced from the memories of those 
who were privileged to enjoy her daily com- 

William Gilliver, 66 29 6mo. 1898 


•George E. Gilliver, 29 9 Imo. 1898 
BirmiiigJicun. Son of William and Mary Ann 

Thomas Glaisyer, 89 4 2mo. 1898 


IValter Goodwin, 59 10 9ino. 1898 




Mary Fisher Gough, 64 29 12mo. 1896 

Fairtnew^ Duhlifi, Daughter of Josiah R. and 

Deborah Gough. 
Alexander 0. Green, 23 31 5mo. 1897 

Melbourne^ Victoria. Son of Joshua Green. 
John Green, 64 4 7mo. 1898 


William E. Green, 67 10 Imo. 1898 

Besshrooh. An Elder. 
Anna B. Gregg, 85 21 3mo. 1898 


Hannah Grimshaw, 77 8 2mo. 1898 

Raiodon, Wife of Charles T. Grimshaw. 
John B. Grubb, 74 20 lOmo. 1897 


Charlotte Guy, 72 10 5mo. 1898 

Bradford. Widow of William Guy. 

Anne Hall, 66 18 7mo. 1898 

Cootehill. Wife of Robert Hall. 

John Hardy, 69 9 2mo. 1898 


Francis R. Harrington, 34 8 2mo. 1898 

Eliza Harris, 83 9 12mo. 1897 

CocJcermouth. Widow of Joseph Harris. 

Reginald Harrison, 2 13 9 mo. 1897 

Roehamipton. Son of Charles and Ellen H. 



Winifred M. Harrison, 6 29 3mo. 1898 

Kendal, Daughter of Henry and E va Harrison. 
Alice C. Hartas, 45 23 3mo. 1898 

St. Peter's Road^ Londo?i. 
Isabella Hartley, 61 4 2mo. 1898 

Boiviiess^ Windermere, Widow of Thomas 


Eebecca Haughton, 82 14 4mo. 1898 

Blachrocl% Cork, 
MaryHaydock, 64 11 3mo. 1898 


Charles Head, 78 7 3mo. 1898 


Elizabeth A. Heath, 70 25 4ino. 1898 
Birmingham. Wife of John Heath. 

Matilda Henley, 70 13 12mo. ^ 1897 

Pechham. Wife of John Henley. 

Thomas S. Hicks, 70 20 6mo. 1898 


Elizabeth Hodgson, 74 21 lOmo. 1897 
Heaton Moor^ Ilanchester, Widow of Thomas 

Richard Holdsworth, 80 10 3mo. 1898 

Sandal, near WaJcefield, 
Susan Horne, 77 15 2mo. 1898 




John Hosktnson, 52 7 3mo. 1898- 

North Ormeshy, 
Anna M. Hoyland, 68 20 2ino. 1898 

King's Nortofi. Wife of William W. Hoyland. 
Edgar M. Hutchinson, 15 13 7mo. 1898 

Haslemere. Son of Alice and the late Edward 


Christopher Jackman, 72 24 5mo. 1898' 

Elizabeth Jackson, 70 28 2mo. 1898' 

Calder Vale. Wife of Shadrach Jackson. 
Robert G. Jackson, 

Edward W. T Anson, 

Gertrude M. I'Anson 

Here, Wiltshire. 
James FAnson, 

Nathan I'Anson, 

Susannah Jennings, 

Leeds. Widow of Joshua J. Jennings. 

About twenty-five years ago, a scholar in the 
Friends' Adult School at Leeds lay on his death 
bed. He had not long been connected with the 
School, and he only then found out, what so 

87 17 3mo. 1898 

40 6 5mo. 1898 

38 1 4ino. 1898 

53 30 3mo. " 1898 

79 3 12mo. 1897 

49 19 12mo. 1897 



many discover at the last moment, that he had 
made no preparation for the great change before 
him. He was visited by more than one of the 
teachers, and it is believed that, before he passed 
away, he found peace and reconciliation with 
God through Jesus Christ. 

The chief mourner at his funeral was his 
young widow, Susannah Jennings. To her the 
message of salvation came with added power at 
this sorrowful time, and she resolved then and 
there to give her heart to that Saviour who 
Joved her and had given Himself for her. 
Having no child and few relations she went 
back to the small home of her parents, supporting 
herself, and in part supporting them, by working 
at a flax mill. 

Meanwhile her thoughts turned with loving 
interest to the Friends who had pointed herself 
and her husband to Jesus, and she became a 
regular attender of Friends' meetings. 

It was about this time that the principal 
gathering of the Society of Friends in Leeds 
was removed to Woodhouse Lane, as the old 
meeting-house was no longer central for the 
majority of the members. There were, however, 
a few members too old or too feeble to walk up 
to the new meeting-house, and for their con- 



venience, as well as for the sake of continuing 
the schools in the district, an old singing and 
dancing room was engaged, where, besides the 
schools, a Friends' meeting was held on First- 
day mornings, and a mission meeting in the 
evenings. The morning meeting was held for 
some time under discouragement, as the atten- 
dance was small, and the teachers had to consider 
the possibility of having to close it. There was 
one person, however, never absent, and that was 
S. Jennings. She was no preacher, in the 
ordinary sense of the word, but her heart could 
not contain the sense of the love of God to her 
own soul, and she felt constrained to speak of it 
to others. A Friend who occasionally attended 
these meetings, still recalls the freshness and 
heart-stirring sincerity of her offerings, though 
twenty years have since passed away. 

Meanwhile her home life was not an easy 
one. Her father was mostly ill, and unable to 
work, and her mother was a chronic invalid, and 
the support of the family depended almost 
entirely on their daughter. Living in one of a 
row of small cottages, looking out upon a blank 
wall, in a densely populated part of the town, 
her outward surroundings were not attractive. 
But there was light within ; Susannah's heart 



overflowed with praise, which found expression 
in the singing of hymns. At the factory close 
by she was a general favourite, because she was 
always ready to do a good turn for every one ; 
and she was sometimes called " The Good 
Samaritan," and at others "The Singing Pilgrim," 
as nothing ever came amiss to her. She was 
deeply interested in the spiritual well-being of 
the young people of her acquaintance, and all 
those connected with the schools. She would 
say, " You see I work among them, and I know 
what terrible temptations they have ; I do so 
long to help them all I can." Visitors to her 
home in the evenings frequently found some of 
them sitting with her, and some were largely 
influenced by her example. One now resident in 
China wrote to her as follows : — " Sometimes 
when everything seems dark and discouraging 
here, and I have felt almost ready to give way 
to despair, the thought of your faith and patience, 
and cheerful thankfulness for small mercies, has 
been like an inspiration to me, shining out of the 
gloom. I have ever felt it was one of my 
greatest privileges to have known you ; and when 
you are gone I shall still treasure you in my 
heart in loving remembrance." 

As years wore on Susannah's circumstances 



became worse. Her father died, leaving debts 
amounting to over £40, and these his daughter, 
by great self-sacrifice, managed to pay. The 
mother became wholly paralysed, and was thus 
dependent on the frequent attentions of her 
daughter by day as well as by night. But the 
managers at the mill were very kind, allowing 
her to come to her work or to stay away when 
needful. It was at this time that she had a 
great trial of faith, when the mill where she 
worked had to be closed, as the flax trade had 
left the town. What should she do ? But her 
Heavenly Father provided for her, as the part of 
the mill in which she was employed was re- 
opened by a new company, by whom she was 
treated with as much kindness as by her old 
employers. The neighbours were kind in helping 
to nurse the mother, but they got weary with 
the frequent calls for help. Some friends 
provided the money to pay for a nurse during 
two or three nights in each week, but, even with 
this alleviation, Susannah's duties were very 
heavy. They were, however, performed with 
the utmost love and cheerfulness. She once 
said, " You know my mother is very heavy, and 
when we are alone, I could not possibly lift her 
in my own strength ; but we just pray together, 



and God always gives me at the time just the 
streng-th that I need." 

During the last three years of her mother's 
life S. Jennings was seldom able to attend 
meetings. This was a great privation, but still 
she felt that God was with her at her home. 
One of her greatest pleasures was when she 
could occasionally get to the quarterly meetings 
of the Christian Fellowship Union. Her utter- 
ances at these times will long be treasured 
in the hearts of her fellow-members. She 
would frequently rise with a hymn, such as — 

"Simply trusting every day, 
Trusting through a stormy way ; 
Even when my faith is small, 
Trusting Jesus, that is all." 

After it had been sung she would stand up and 
tell of some of the straits into which she had 
been brought, and how help had always come 
just in proportion to her needs. At these times 
her face was radiant and triumphant, and it 
would seem as if she got a glimpse into that 
land where faith is changed into sight, and 
prayer into praise. Then she would add, " Oh ! 
I cannot tell you how good God has been to 
me ! " and would sit down shedding tears of 



At last the poor mother passed away, and then 
S. Jennings's friends hoped that there was a 
time of comparative rest and comfort in store 
for her. But it was ordered otherwise. At first 
she went back to the mill, but her attendances 
became shorter and shorter, until she was unable 
to go at al], for consumption had set in. She 
spent a considerable part of the year 1896 in 
various Convalescent Homes, but without any 
permanent result, and in the spring of 1897 
any hope of recovery was given up by all but 
herself. A comfortable home was found for 
her in the midst of those who loved her, and she 
wanted for no outward comfort. During the 
last few weeks several of her friends took turns 
in being with her at night. She had a strong 
clinging to life, and it was not until about three 
weeks before the end that she was able to give 
up hope of recovery, and from her heart to say, 

Thy will be done." 

Her dying words were not many, as the 
power of speech seemed almost taken away. To 
one she said, " What a privilege it is that I have 
not to seek Christ on a death bed." The xxiii. 
and ciii. Psalms were often with her, and her 
favourite hynms, "Jesus lover of my soul," 
and "I feel like singing all the time," were 



often sung to her. Her last words were, Come, 
Lord Jesus, I give myself to Thee then she 
fell asleep to wake in Heaven. 
John Johnson, 87 3 4 mo. 1898 


James Kenway, 86 27 4mo. 1898 


James Kenway was born at Bridport in 
1811, and was the son of Peter and Deborah 
Kenway. After leaving Ackworth School he 
was first employed at the Neath Abbey Iron- 
works, but left this business for that of a corn 
and flour merchant. He was generally esteemed 
for his kindliness of disposition, and his readiness 
to help anyone in trouble, as many can testify. 

In 183G he married Elizabeth Thomas. He 
enjoyed good health until the last three years of 
his life, when he suffered from a sudden attack 
of giddiness from which he never really 
recovered, but was only confined to his bed for 
the last three months. His sweetness of charac- 
ter, and patience in suffering were beautiful to 
witness. Never once did he allow a murmur to 
escape his lips, but constantly expressed deep 
feelings of gratitude for all his mercies. He 
died on the 27th of Fourth Month, at the residence 
of his daughter, at the age of 86. 



James E. King, 25 18 lOmo. 1897 

SoiUhport. Son of James and Margaret King. 
Alexander La^mont, 80 18 9mo. 1898 

KilmcmiocJc. An Elder. 
Frances A. Lawrence, 79 27 3mo. 1898 

Liverpool. Widow of William M. Lawrence. 
Robert J. Lecky, 88 11 llmo. 1897 

Ladhrook Road^ London. 
Susanna Lesley, 76 11 6mo. 1898 

Pahefield. Wife of Piirsglove Lesley. 
Henry K. Lewis, 75 30 Imo. 1898 

Croydoii, A Minister. 
Mary W. Levingston, 32 8 llmo. 1897 

Rathgar, Dublin, Wife of J. W. Levingston. 
Arthur H. Lidbetter, 21 4 12mo. 1897 

Wigton, Son of Martin and Eliza Lidbetter. 
Samuel S. Lingford, 66 10 Imo. 1898 


Sarah Linley, 79 15 12mo. 1897 

Highbury. Widow of William Linley. 
William E. Lloyd, 49 7 6mo. 1898 

Barnt Green^ Longbridge. 
Elizabeth Lockwood, 84 3 7mo. 1898 

Bristol. Widow of William Lockwood. 
William A. Loveli^ss, 50 14 lOmo. 1897 

Diss. A Minister. 

William Alger Loveless was the youngest 




child of Robert and Jane Loveless, of Diss, 
Norfolk, where he was born in 1848. His parents 
were Wesleyan Methodists, his father being for 
many years an active member of that society and 
an acceptable local preacher. 

Under the influence of pious parents, he w^as 
very early made sensible of the visitation of 
divine love. He was as a child of a very quiet, 
retiring disposition, and, being delicate, was kept 
much at home. His parents resided near the 
Friends' Meeting-house, and he often watched 
Friends going to their week-day meeting, and a 
great desire to attend the meeting took hold of 
him. When at last he did so, he was deeply im- 
pressed with the mode of worship. He obtained 
permission of his parents to attend the meeting, 
on condition that he attended the early prayer 
meeting at seven o'clock at the Wesleyan 
Chapel, the Sunday school in the morning and 
again in the afternoon, also the evening service 
and prayer meeting at its close. All this he 
willingly did, rather- than miss the Friends* 
meeting, which, although so young, he thoroughly 
enjoyed, even when it w^as held entirely in silence. 

He also took a lively interest in reading 
Friends' books, especially biographies, and he 
read the "Annual Monitor" with much pleasure. 


William A. Loveless' school days were few, 
and at an early age he was placed as an errand 
boy in the office of a solicitor at Diss, where, 
with zeal and great perseverance, he rose to a re- 
sponsible position, which he held for many years. 

He very soon began to work in the Lord's 
service, devoting his spare time to visiting the 
poor and holding cottage meetings with them. 
He also held classes for girls and young men, and 
frequently attended a meeting held on First-day 
evenings in a farmhouse at Dickelbourgh, then 
occupied by Frances Dix, where he first was led 
to speak as a minister. 

At the age of nineteen, W. A. Loveless was 
received into membership by Tivetshall Monthly 
Meeting, after which he commenced a Sunday 
school at the Meeting-house. 

In 18(39 he had a very serious illness, when 
his life was despaired of ; and very touching it 
was to see, each morning, many anxious little 
faces waiting outside the gate to hear tidings of 
the teacher to whom they were so attached. 

He was, however, favoured to recover, and 
as soon as health permitted, he felt called to 
religious service within the limits of his Monthly 
Meeting ; but it was a great trial of his faith 
that he had not the unity and sympathy of all 



his fellow members in bis metbods of workiog, 
as be bad from a cbild believed bimself divinely 
called to labour in tbis part of tbe Lord's vine- 
yard. He was, bovvever, greatly belped by 
loving counsel from Josiab Brown, of Norwicb, 
and otber Friends. It was about tbis time tbat 
be bired a disused cbapel in Diss, and witb tbe 
assistance of otber Cbristian workers, maintained 
a First-day afternoon meeting tbere, wbicb was 
well attended. 

In 1877, witb a minute of Norwicb Montbly 
Meeting on Ministry and Oversigbt, be undertook 
religious service witbin tbe compass of tbat 
meeting. Leaving bis office on Seventb-day 
afternoons, be would go to Norwicb, wbere be 
greatly enjoyed tbe society of valued Friends, 
and on First-day would go and bold two or tbree 
meetings in Nortb Walsbam and otber places, 
returning to Norwicb for tbe nigbt, and bome 
early next morning to business. 

In 1881 be was recorded a minister by Tivet- 
sball Montbly Meeting. A minute was granted 
bim in 1882 for visiting some of tbe small 
meetings in bis Quarterly Meeting, and bolding 
public meetings, cbiefly in closed meeting-bouses. 

Speaking of tbis time, be said : " I cannot 
express tbe joy I bave felt in being engaged in 



this service, and reverently ascribe all the glory 
to Him who, I believe, called me to engage 

In 1884, on the 3rd of Twelfth Month, he 
was married to Pleasance Jannett Brame, of 
Darrow Wood Farm, Diss, a happy union of 
thirteen years. 

In 1886, on the death of his employer, his 
business engagement terminated, and W. A. 
Loveless became a worker in connection with the 
Friends' Home Mission Committee. From that 
time he devoted himself entirely to religious and 
philanthropic work, his labours being greatly 
valued in the meetings at Diss, Diss Heywood, 
Tivetshall, and Tasburgh. As the outcome of 
his efforts it became necessary to enlarge the 
Meeting-house premises at Diss, and a com- 
modious and comfortable building was erected, 
in which a First-day School for Children, Band 
of Hope, Adult School for Men, and other 
meetings were held. 

Many and varied were the services in which 
W. A. Loveless was engaged. He was especially 
qualified for visiting the sick, the dying, and the 

In 1894 he was elected a member of the 
Board of Guardians, standing first in the number 



of votes, an office in which he took great interest, 
having to rise early on Second-day morning and 
drive a distance of eight miles to attend the 
Board meetings, a duty which he always fulfilled 
when health and circumstances permitted. He 
also took great interest in the inmates of the 
workhouse, and there his visits were greatly 

A few extracts from the many letters of 
sympathy received by his widow from those out- 
side the Society of Friends show the general 
appreciation of his work and character : 

A clergyman of an adjoining parish writes : 
" No man will be more missed ; we may, indeed, 
call him a ' man greatly beloved,' for he was a 
most earnest, visitor amongst the poor, carrying 
his Master's message from door to door. Almost 
his last words to me were : ' My work is chiefly 
visiting amongst the sick and poor.' He has 
gone from amongst us, but he has gone where 
many will welcome him, who are indeed stars in 
his crown. I shall greatly miss him ; his life 
was thoroughly consistent, and he has left 
behind a very high example." 

From a lady of the Established Church : 
But the comfort you are able to have in looking 
back at all the good to his fellow creatures Mr. 



Loveless did and tried to do ! His, I am sure, 
will be a crown with many bright stars, by his 
being the means of bringing many to the love of 
Christ, and to the knowledge of their sins for- 
given through that precious Saviour. I always 
found your dear husband willing to help me, for 
I many times have asked him to visit those who, 
I felt, wanted leading on by one who had had 
more experience than I had. The result of those 
things will be revealed at the last day." 

Another writes: "1 know that many will 
mourn the loss of your devoted husband ; but 
surely for him it is but an entrance into life 
more abundant. His work on earth is finished ; 
the fruit will be seen hereafter, when we shall 
rejoice together, giving glory to our King, who 
doeth all things well." 

Early in 1897 our dear friend had an attack 
of influenza, from which, not being strong, he 
never fully recovered, and for some time he 
complained of pain and weakness, his condition 
affording anxiety to his friends. It was thought 
that rest and change might be beneficial ; but 
before this could be arranged, a fresh attack set 
in on the 9th of Tenth Month ; pericarditis and 
other dangerous symptoms followed, which 
in a few days proved fatal. 



But although the call came somewhat sud- 
denly, we reverently believe our dear friend was 
fully prepared. Very striking was his Jast 
sermon from Can. v. 16: "Yea, He is altogether 
lovely ; this is my beloved, and this is my 
friend"; and the last hymn he joined in singing 
was from J. S. Fry's " Selection of Hymns and 
Spiritual Songs : 

" Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty.^' 
I've wrestled on toward heaven, 

'Gainst storm, and wind, and tide. 
Now, like a weary traveller 

That leaneth on his guide, 
Amid the shades of evening. 

While sinks life's lingering sand, 
I hail the glory dawning 

From Immanuel's land. 

With mercy and with judgment 

My web of time He wove. 
And aye the dews of sorrow 

Were lust'red with His love : 
I'll bless the hand that guided, 

I'll bless the heart that planned, 
When throned where glory dwelleth 

In Immanuel's land. 

Oh ! I am my Beloved's, 

And my Beloved is mine ! 
He brings a poor vile sinner 

Into His " house of wine." 



I stand upon His merit, 

I know no safer stand, 
Not e'en where glory dwelletli, 

In Immaniiel's land. 

The bride eyes not her garment, 

But her dear bridegroom's face ; 
I will not gaze at glory. 

But on my King of grace ; 
Not at the crown He giveth, 

But on His pierced hand : 
The Lamb is all the glory 

Of Immanuel's land. 

The life of our dear friend was one of much 
self -denial. It was always with difficulty that 
he could be persuaded to take much-needed rest. 
During the first few days of his illness his mind 
was actively engaged in trying to arrange to help 
others, and it was only as his sufferings increased 
and became very acute that he gave it up ; and 
then, when praying, if it pleased the Lord to 
give him rest, if not, patience, he added : " And 
not only me, but all Thy suffering children." 
His prayer was answered on his own behalf ; for 
although his pain was great, yet not a murmur 
escaped him, and he was very grateful for all 
that was done for him. He desired to be spared 
for the sake of his dear wife and children ; but 
as it became evident that he could not recover, 



he trustfully resigned them to the loving care 
of his Heavenly Father. As strength permitted, 
he talked much to his loved ones, exhorting them 
to put eternal things first. He spoke of 
his dismissal as going home, where he had long 
placed his affections, as expressed in the following 
lines, which he often repeated : 

I want by my aspect serene, 

My actions and words, to declare [seen, 
That my treasure is placed in a country un- 

That my heart's best affections are there. 

Shortly before the close unconsciousness 
ended his sufferings, and he peacefully passed 
away from the service of earth to the higher 
service of heaven. 

The funeral, whfch took place in the quiet 
little grave-yard at Diss, was a very solemn and 
impressive time. The esteem in which he was 
held was strikingly manifested by the large con- 
course of people of all classes who assembled to 
pay the last tribute of love and respect to his 

Charles C. Lucas, 52 26 3mo. 1898 

Gisborne, New Zealaml. 
Elizabeth Lucas, 96 29 Imo. 1898 

Hitchin. Widow of William Lucas. 



WilliamW.MacCormack, 29 21 12mo. 1897 

Elizabeth Maginnis, 64 18 8mo. 1897 
Dublin. Wife of William Maginnis. 

Cecil Massey, 25 27 5mo. 1898 

Nottingham. Son of John B. and Emma 

Maria Matthews, 60 9 3mo. 1898 
Southe7id. Widow of James Matthews. 

Benjamin J. Maw, 90 5 Imo. 1898 

Eleanor Mayo, 64 26 7mo. 1898 

Hitchin. Wife of George Mayo. 

Susanna Midgley, 81 27 lOmo. 1897 


William Milligan, 71 26 2mo. 1898 

Mary Milner, 86 22 Imo. 1898 

Penrith. An Elder. Widow of John P. 

Georgiana Moates, 79 17 3mo. 1898 

Brigham^ Cumberland. 

Isabella Morris, 84 5 2mo. 1898 

Kingstown. Widow of James Morris. 

Ernest Mulliner, — 11 8mo. 1897 




William Nash, 28 2 6mo. 1898 

XJarhe vi Cartmel. Son of William R. Nash. 
William Nash, though a very steady, careful 
young man, was one among the many who have 
been drawn away from their English homes by 
the glowing reports coming from the wonderful 
Klondyke gold region. Although his friends 
knew that it was at much risk that he went out 
for such a venture, he did not go without their 
consent, when he left Liverpool with one com- 
panion in the Third Month, 1898. Things went 
fairly well with them as far as Skagway in Alaska ; 
but hardships and exposure and extreme exertion 
in the blizzards of the dreaded White Pass 
proved too much for him, and he reached Lake 
Bennett very poorly. His illness increasing he 
decided to return, and by great effort and deter- 
mination again crossed the Pass and reached 
Skagway very ill. He was removed from 
the hotel where he had taken quarters, to the 
hospital, where he was under good medical care, 
and attended by well trained nurses ; but the 
skill and care were unavailing, and general peri- 
tonitis having set in, he died on the 2nd of Sixth 

His medical attendant writes that his suffer- 
ings at times were very severe, but he bore all 



with remarkable fortitude and patience, and 
never failed to express his gratitude for e very- 
kind attention. He was conscious to the last, 
and said he was ready to go ; and passed away 

His grave is in the cemetery of Skagway, 
on the bank of the river. Close by it there stands 
a tall pine tree, on a " blazed " part of which his 
doctor inscribed his name, and age, and date of 

John H. Nichols, 61 1 2mo. 1898 


Rose Nicholson, 76 8 4mo. 1898 


Sarah Nicholson, 59 6 6mo. 1898 

Sunderkuid. Wife of Herbert Nicholson. 

Hannah Norton, 73 3 8mo. 1898 

Pahefield. Widow of William H. Norton. 

Frances M. Nuttall, 55 13 lOmo. 1897 

Hannah Payne, 79 16 Imo. 1898 

Bolton. An Elder. Widow of William Payne. 

Lucy M. Payne, 79 1 11 mo. 1897 

Olto7i^ Birmingham, Widow of Thomas 

Ellen A. Peake, 77 24 9mo. 1897 

Rathmines^ Duhlin. 




William H. Pearson, 60 30 3mo. 1898 

Boivlmg^ Bradford. 
Rachel A. Pearson, 55 25 12mo. 1897 

Bowling. Wife of William H. Pearson. 
Sarah Pearson, 72 26 2mo. 1898 

Wigton. A Minister. 
Arthur Pease, 61 27 8mo. 1898 

Marshe-hy-tlie-Sea., Yorhsliire. A Minister. 
Arthur Pease was the third son of Joseph 
and Emma Pease, of Southend, Darlington, and 
was born there on the 12th of Ninth Month, 1837. 
He became one of a happy family of twelve 
brothers and sisters, in a home that was well 
known, not only in the Society of Friends, but 
in a much wider circle. 

As a child he was somewhat delicate, and 
received that maternal care which happily so 
frequently attends such children. This produced 
a very close mutual attraction between mother 
and son, and made him acutely feel her death in 

He was educated at Tottenham School. 
Naturally of a quiet and amiable disposition, he 
passed through this early probation as a favourite 
with his fellow pupils, and with those who had 
the charge of his education. 

Leaving school in 1853, he entered upon the 



family business, and became a most useful 
member of the firm in which his father, uncles, 
and elder brotlier were engaged. It is not, 
however, with his business avocations that a 
memoir for the " Annual Monitor" is concerned. 
It is with the history of that inner life which is 
often hid from the world, but which is revealed 
in a man's life and works and words. There is 
no doubt that whilst at school the influence of 
the Holy Spirit on his young heart led him to 
abhor that which was evil, and to cleave to that 
which was good. 

During his early life, the death of his 
younger brothers had a decided influence on his 
character. He was impressed as he stood by 
their graves, and marked the vacant places at 
the table and hearth, with the uncertainty of 
time, the certainty of death, and the need of 
preparation for the life to come. He evidently 
felt himself to be " a stranger and a pilgrim," 
seeking " a better country, that is a heavenly.'^ 
To those who knew him intimately he always 
seemed to sit loose from earthly things. He 
enjoyed life, entering into all its interests, social, 
municipal, political, philanthropic and religious ; 
but he evidently looked with steadfast gaze on 
the life beyond, treating things here as temporal, 
and the things eternal as those that endure. 



With this substratum of character — whilst in 
business he had a most excellent and honest 
judgment, and in philanthropy and politics a 
warm interest — he never was absorbed in details, 
or in those close investigations which would 
distract his time and thoughts from the higher 
aims on which he had built his life. It may be 
said that he was devoted to the endeavour to 
promote Christ's kingdom on earth. His engage- 
ments were numerous. A regular attender, during 
his early life, at our religious meetings, he took 
a useful but not a very promineut part in meetings 
for discipline, acting as clerk at home, and 
assisting at the desk in the Yearly Meeting, where 
his quiet, serious manner, his good presence, and 
well regulated voice Avere much appreciated. 

He was acknowledged as a minister on the 
12th of Eleventh Month, 1874, and his invitations 
to accept the grace of God which brings salvation 
were warm-hearted and sincere. But Arthur 
Pease's were no narrow views on religious 
observances or beliefs. By conviction he was a 
Friend ; and whilst those most dear to him trod 
other relgious paths, he held to those views in 
which he had been early educated and which 
made him a Friend, without feeling that they 
were in any way separated in things essential 
and eternal. 



Giving up his Darlington home, he removed 
for the last few years of his life to a house on the 
Yorkshire coast, built by his father. It was 
situated in the Cleveland iron-mining district. 
He generally attended our meetings in the morn- 
ing of First-days. In the evening he frequently 
occupied the pulpits of various denominations in 
the town or mining village, and occasionally 
aided the Vicar of Marske in reading the lessons 
of the day in Holy Scripture. The testimony as 
to the manner in which these services were 
received, and as to the real good that was, through 
the divine blessing, given to the souls of his 
hearers, is wide and emphatic. 

He was elected member for the Borough of 
Whitby in the parliament of 1880-5. He was 
not a frequent speaker in the House of Commons, 
but served most usefully and diligently on public 
and private Bill Committees. When he did 
address the House, it was generally clearly to the 
point on matters with which he was by experience 
acquainted. In 1895 he again entered parlia- 
ment as member for Darlington, as a supporter 
of the Unionist party. His sympathies were 
intensely with Ireland. . He deplored the condition 
of the peasantry, and the trials which the sad 
social state of the country brought upon all 



classes. To one of his most intimate friends, 
who was speaking to him of the difference of 
opinion between himself and others dear to him, 
he said, " I would give my life for Ireland to- 
morrow, if the sacrifice would make a happy- 
Ireland." With these views he felt it his duty 
to dissent from Mr. Gladstone's measures on 
Home Rule, and to support (not without appre- 
hension that there might occasionally be some 
tension of his views on other subjects), the 
Conservative or Unionist party. 

He was Mayor of Darlington in 1873-4. He 
was chairman of the Durham County Council, 
and for many years chairman of the committee 
having charge of the County Asylum. In these 
offices and many others he showed that love to 
mankind which is begotten by the love of God to 

He married on the 14th of Fourth Month, 
1864, Mary Lecky, the daughter of Ebenezer and 
Lydia Pike, of Besborough, Cork. His family 
consisted of three sons and four daughters. 
They formed, as they grew up, part of that 
united family circle of their name in and around 
Darlington, who regarded their father with much 
affection, and received his love in return. 

But life here, however pure, however 



complete, however valuable to family, neighbours, 
and country, has its end. Arthur Pease's family 
friends and neighbours could not but feel anxious 
about a life so dear to them, as they noticed 
failing health, and a waning physical force. He 
was quite aware of the fact ; and although able 
still to discharge his public and private duties, he 
frequently alluded to his life here as uncertain. 

Death in his own family was a sore trial to 
himx. In Tenth Month, 1896, his daughter Rosa, 
who had been long in delicate health, died in the 
faith of the humble Christian who confides in a 
loving Saviour's sacrifice. She was buried in the 
little churchyard of Marske by the Sea, where the 
cross over her grave could be seen from her 
father's windows. He bore the bereavement as 
a Christian ; but those who loved him noticed 
how much he felt it. Still he followed his 
usual occupations with conscientious assiduity. 

Late in Seventh Month, 1898, he went to 
speak at a political meeting at Callington in 
Cornwall. Whilst there he was seized with a 
sudden addition to the physical weakness under 
which he had suffered for some months past. 
The physicians called in took a serious view of 
his case ; he knew it and said, " I desire to die as 
a Christian." All fear of death was taken away 



from him. Faith in the blood of Christ — the 
sense that his sins were pardoned — was over all. 
For many days hope and fear influenced those 
about his bed. There seemed at one time such a 
rally, as gave reason to hope that he might at 
least be removed to his own house by the sea, 
where he so much longed to be ; but such was 
not permitted. On Seventh-day, the 27th of 
Eighth Month he passed, as we reverently trust, to 
the many mansions already prepared for those 
that love their Lord. 

On Ninth Month 1st he was buried in the church- 
yard at Marske, beside the child he had loved so 
w^ell. It was a striking scene ; the open grave, 
the tributes of flowers, with hundreds of neigh- 
bours and friends around the grave. The peer, 
the peasant, the miner, all came to show respect 
to one who had shared their labours, and many 
to bear witness to the power of his ministry. 
The ministers of the Society of Friends, and those 
of the Established Church stood side by side at 
his grave in all harmony, and each spoke that 
which was given him to say. How beautifully 
appropriate are the words: "Therefore my beloved 
brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as 
ye know that 3'our labour is not in vain in the 



Sophia Phillips, 62 9 6mo. 1897 


Maria PiM, 57 16 12ino. 1897 

Clechheaton. Widow of Samuel Pirn. 

Elizabeth Pontefract, 73 5 -2mo. 1898 
Weaste, Manchester. Widow of Simeon Ponte- 

Esther Powell, 71 9 12mo. 1897 

Croydon. Wife of William Powell. 
Hannah I. Price, 64 2 6mo. 1898 

Neath. Wife of Charles S. Price. 

" In sweet and hallowed memory of one 
w^hose life was love." These words were truly 
chosen as a tribute to one whose loving influence 
will not cease, we believe, to be felt for many a 
year, in the little circle in which she moved, 
whose ''bright example" is still before those 
to whom it unconsciously spoke of the " grand un- 
selfishness" which underlies all real Christianity, 
and whose tender and helpful sympathy in the 
sorrows and difficulties, as well as in the joys 
and interests, of those around her, will be long 
and sorely missed. 

It was her humble trust in her Lord and 
Saviour, and the love and strength which were 
given her from on high, which made her what 
she was : for whilst she was ever ready to 



acknowledge, I can of mine own self do 
nothing," she could at the same time reverently 
testify, " I can do all things through Christ 
which strengtheneth me." 

Hannah Isabella Price, or, as she was 
generally called, " Annabella " Price, the eldest 
daughter of the late Joshua and Hannah Richard- 
son, of Neath, was the wife of Charles Struve 
Price, of Bryn Derwen, Neath. As daughter, 
wife and mother, as well as in all the other 
relationships of life, she was characterised by a 
thoughtful and unselfish love and care for those 
around her, for whom, whatever their need or 
their condition, we believe it may be truly said. 
She hath done what she could." 

From her earliest girlhood it seems to have 
been her prayerful desire to 
^' Follow with reverent steps the great example 
01 Him whose holy life was ' doing good,' 
So that ' the wide world was her Father's temple ; 
Her loving life a psalm of gratitude.'" 

She was never strong, and in her youth 
passed through some very serious illnesses ; but 
her mind was active, and she was always ready 
to enter with interest into what went on around 
her, and to take her share in anything that had 
to be done, which called for labour and thought ; 



contriving many a little bit of help or happiness 
for others out of things which seemed to have 
but little capability of contributing either. 

As she grew to womanhood she became 
more and more fond of study, and her books 
were dear to her, especially poems. But though 
she herself often wrote verses which, as years 
went on, became the poetry in which the music 
of love and sympathy, of sorrow and joy, was 
heard, and which were penned with the prayer 
that they might comfort some saddened heart, 
or bring home to the happy ones a yet deeper 
sense of the sacredness of some heaven-sent joy, 
she always spoke very humbly of these writings, 
and it was often difficult to persuade her to read 
or show them to others. 

In her early married life she had occasion 
sometimes to make use of homoeopathic medicines 
in the household, and finding the little globules 
such safe and efficacious remedies for any 
childish ailments or feverish attacks, and es- 
pecially for any afEections of the eye, she soon 
began to dispense them to the wives and children 
of the colliers in the district, and to be known 
amongst the poor people and others as a doctor 
who charged nothing, and who delighted to give 
time, thought, and medicines to help cases 



brought under her notice. So numerous did 
these cases at last become, that for many years 
she set apart every Second-day morning to attend 
to them, giving to each the consideration and the 
medicines required ; and thus she often found 
opportunities for giving the cheering word of 
tender sympathy, or the timely counsel which 
would help some poor wandering one to turn 
into the right way. And when the poor people 
who came for help or medicine did not come at the 
specified time, she never allowed herself to con- 
sider these unexpected guests as unwelcome 
visitors, but setting aside her own convenience, 
would endeavour as far as possible to help them, 
often saying, " I can't bear that one should go 
away disappointed." 

In the spring of 1890, she and her husband 
and daughters, while travelling in New Zealand, 
happened to be staying in the lake district of 
South Otago, at a little wooden hotel near the 
beautiful Diamond Lake, in a lovely place called 
" Paradise," which lay beneath snow-capped 
Earnshaw, in the silver-threaded valley of the 
Dare, when a terrible accident happened — the 
little daughter of the hotel-keeper fell into a 
large tub of boiling water, and was fearfully 
scalded ; and, to make matters worse, the young 



mother, hardly knowing what she did, in her 
distress plunged the child into cold water, so that 
in addition to all the suffering the poor little 
thing was now seized with convulsions. The 
nearest doctor — living forty-seven miles away — 
was out of reach, so A. Price did all she could 
for the little sufferer, sharing with the poor, 
distressed mother the long nights of anxious 
nursing, and by the use of homoeopathic medi- 
cines and the " Carron oil " was, humanly 
speaking, instrumental in saving the cherished 
little life. Some weeks afterwards she received 
the good news that little Lily was quite well, the 
grateful parents writing that they owed her 
recovery to Mrs. Price. 

While health and strength were granted, she 
loved to visit the homes of the Welsh colliers 
and their families, letting them feel that she was 
not merely a district visitor, who was in a dif- 
ferent position from themselves, but a loving and 
sympathising friend, to whom they could tell 
their troubles and difficulties, sure of her help 
and counsel. 

None could enter more tenderly and 
reverently into the grief of the broken-hearted 
or bereaved ones than she did, weeping with 
those that wept, yet pointing them to the hope 




beyond, and gently reminding them to ask that 
those who were left might be enabled to live in 
that love of God which should one day grant 
them also an entrance into the Home where 
partings are no more. 

But it was not only the " dear poor people " 
who turned to her as a friend. In other ranks 
of life also, the aged and the feeble, the anxious 
mothers, or the happy little children, the young 
people with all their lives before them, found in 
her a sympathising friend. 

Many an oft repeated little saying of hers 
has been treasured up by these : " Keep the love, 
dears ; whatever we do, let's keep the love." 
" Do not let us do anything uncharitable." 
" Life is not long enough for quarrels," she 
would say, if anyone brought her a complaint 
against others ; or if in her presence anything 
was said to the discredit of someone, she would 
beg that nothing unkind might be said, and say 
it is wiser to talk of things rather than people. 

To young people just setting out in life, she 
would give the text, " Seek ye first the kingdom 
of God and His righteousness," reminding them 
that all things needful would be added, and 
that even if troubles or anxieties came they must 
remember that the Lord will provide ; " it may 



not be my way, it may not be thy way, and yet, 
in His own way, the Lord will provide." 

If any cumbered with a load of care came 
to share their burden with her, she would remind 
them that life is only one day at a time, and if 
our Heavenly Father gives us strength for that 
one day, we may be sure He will for the next ; 
and we know that the promise is, " As thy days, 
thy strength shall be." And when, as the years 
went by, trials and bereavements fell to her own 
lot, she was able to testify that God is our 
refuge and strength, a very present help in 
trouble. And when the clouds were lifted and 
the brightness which lay behind them was 
revealed, she could adopt the language of the 
ciii. Psalm, always the last portion of Scripture 
read in the family circle every First-day 
evening, " Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and for- 
get not all His benefits : Bless the Lord, oh my 
soul, . . . Bless His Holy Name !" 

Her heart had for many years been far from 
strong, but it was not until Second Month, 1896, 
after a severe attack of influenza, that its extreme 
weakness became apparent ; and although, in 
the summer of that year, she recovered sufficiently 
to be able to go for quiet drives, she was unable 
to meet with the dear friends who in former 



years she had welcomed beneath her roof, and 
who gathered at the Neath Quarterly Meeting. 

In the following spring she was again very 
ill, and had to spend nearly the whole of the 
winter of 1897 in her room. From that time her 
health gradually but surely declined, and the 
pain which she suffered was at times almost 
insupportable, as well as the distressing attacks 
of breathlessness w^hich occurred again and again 
through the long and weary nights. Yet she 
often said that her long illness had been one of 
the happiest times in her life. When able to do 
so, she loved to busy herself in knitting gifts for 
invalids or little children, and in sending 
messages of love or helpful little parcels to the 
poor and the needy, and this especially at her 
last Christmas time, which she said had been the 
happiest she had ever spent ; with her own hand 
addressing needed envelopes, and writing the 
loving greetings. 

But as the months passed by, and spring 
once more came round, and tenderly touched 
with living green the brown and once leafless 
trees, whose gentle waving to and fro she loved 
to watch from her quiet room, and as it became 
evident to her that this was probably the last 
spring-time she would spend on earth, she 



quietly did what she could while time and 
strength remained, in the way of leaving " all 
things in order," and every labour of love accom- 

Through all her great sufferings, through 
breathless nights and weary days, it was her 
prayer that she " might be kept patient." And 
truly the angel of His presence was with her, 
granting her, even in the midst of suffering, His 
peace and comfort, and not only a resignation to 
His divine will, but also a bright and cheery spirit. 

Very often she would ask to have read to 
her the xxxiv. Psalm and some of her favourite 
hymns, and especially " In heavenly love abiding," 
by A. L. Waring, and the beautiful poem " St. 
Paul," by F. W. H. Myers, which comforted and 
soothed her when all outward help seemed use- 
less, particularly the lines, 

" Yes, through all life, through sorrow and 
through sinning, 

Christ is sufficient for He hath sufficed ; 
Christ is the end, for Christ was the beginning, 

Christ the beginning, for the end is Christ." 

When too ill to be fully conscious, she 
would murmur to herself fragments of the 
beautiful hymn, " Rock of Ages," over and over 
again repeating the lines, 


" Nothing in my liand 1 bring, 
Simply to Thy Cross I cling." 

And again, " It's not from any works that I have 
done, it is just the other way. According to His 
mercy He saves us ; and yet, for even the little 
things He gives His loving reward." 

During the last few days of her life all her 
family were with her ; and the morning before 
her death she asked that they all might gather 
by her bedside, when she took of them a most 
beautiful and touching farewell, full of love and 
blessing, her face radiant with " the light invisible 
of a land unknown," and transfigured by the 
foretaste given her of the dawning joy of 

She was scarcely able to speak much after 
this, and next morning she passed away. As those 
who loved her looked upon her countenance 
lighted up with peace and unspeakable joy, 
it seemed to them as they gazed that she, being 
dead, yet spoke to them, saying, silently, not 
only " I shall be satisfied when I awake with 
Thy likeness," but ^'I am satisfied." 

When, a few days later, the long funeral 
procession wound its way down from the quiet 
home of Bryn Darwen to the little graveyard of 
the Friends' Meeting-house at Neath, as a 



Friend, who addressed those who gathered round 
her grave, said truly, " There was hardly one 
amongst the sorrowful crowd who had not in 
some way been helped or cheered by her loving 
ministries, or had not been the better for having 
known her." For, although her life was one that 
was hid with Christ in God, it was also a 
^' living epistle known and read of all men," 
bearing many a message of comfort and of love 
to those around her, and teaching them to wish 
that they might follow in the gentle footsteps of 
one who followed the Lord and Saviour in whose 
love she trusted, and unto the glory of whose 
name she desired to live ; for, in life and in 
death, her soul could truly say, in the language 
of the hymn she loved, and which was read 
beside her grave. 

In heavenly love abiding. 

No change my heart shall fear, 
For safe is such confiding. 

And nothing changes here. 
The storm may roar without me. 

My heart may low be laid. 
But God is round about me, 

And can I be dismayed ? 

Wherever lie may guide me, 
No want shall turn me back ; 

My Shepherd is beside me, 
And nothing can I lack. 


His wisdom ever waketh, 

His sight is never dim ; 
He knows the way He taketh, 

And I will walk with Him. 

Green pastures are before me, 

Which yet I have not seen ; 
Bright skies will soon be o'er me, 

Where the dark clouds have been. 
My hope I cannot measure ; 

My path to Life is free ; 
My Saviour has my treasure, 

And He will walk with me. 

Elizabeth Priest, 74 5 Imo. 1898 


Hannah Priest, 80 10 9mo. 1897 


Joseph Priestman, 61 13 Imo. 1898 


Sarah J. Priestman, 30 21 4mo. 1898 
Carlisle. Daughter of Joseph and Mary 

Sarah Pritchard, 69 12 lOmo. 1897 

BesshrooJc. Widow of Thomas Pritchard. 

Samuel Pryer, 75 19 5mo. 1898 

Chipping Norto)i. 

Anna S. Procter, 54 12 llmo. 1897 

Newcastle- on-Tyne. 

" Only they would that we should remember 

the poor ; which very thing I was also zealous to 



do." Gal. ii. 10. These words come freshly to 
mind ia remembrance of the subject of this 
little sketch, as we see her in imagination, 
propped with pillows, her brown hair loosely 
flowing over her shoulders, her dark expressive 
eyes lighting up, and her whole face animated as 
she eagerly watches the unfolding of parcels sent 
in for the use of her dear invalids. One would 
not dream that her suffering had been such, 
that her limbs were cramped, and that one foot 
could never touch the ground again. 

Anna S. Procter was the daughter of the 
late Joseph and Elizabeth Procter, of Newcastle- 
on-Tyne. At an early age she showed symptoms 
of a delicate constitution, and though for a short 
time she was well enough to go to a private 
boarding school, her health soon gave way and 
she became a confirmed invalid. She suffered 
intensely in her eyes ; and this together with a 
tendency to weakness of the spine, was the cause 
of so much nervous prostration, that for years 
she could not bear to see any but the members of 
her own family. Her mother was her constant 
and ever self-sacrificing companion and attendant, 
bestowing and receiving in return a wealth of 
affection that to both of them greatly mitigated 
the privation of the attendant circumstances. 



At last there came a lull in the intensity of 
the pain ; and though still confined to bed, with 
no hope of being ever again able to walk, 
gradually she became strong enough to see her 
friends and relatives, though only for a few 
minutes at a time. During these years of suffer- 
ing, the religious life and experience, which in 
after days was to prove such a boon to other 
" shut ins" and invalids, was gradually unfolding 
and developing. The sweet patience of her 
spirit, added to the natural gentleness of her nature 
and her genial sympathy, transformed her sick- 
room into a chamber of light, and a veritable 
haven of rest. 

Her heart went forth in intense longing to help 
others in similar, but less favoured circumstances ; 
and as she thought of those poor ones in New- 
castle, tossing on hard beds, in uneasy heat and 
sleeplessness, the idea suggested itself to her 
mind, to have a store of desirable articles, and 
Joan them out to such as were needing assistance : 
water beds, easy chairs, warm blankets for the 
winter, pictures and Scripture texts to cheer and 
help, supplemented by dainty food, etc. 

Beginning in a small way in the year 1881^ 
others, like-minded with herself, quickly heard 
of her plan, and proffered further aid. A com- 



mittee was formed of which she was the secretary 
and treasurer. This had already been in opera- 
tion some years on a small scale, when, through 
a lessening of her own suffering, she was able to 
take a still more active part in enlarging the 
work of the " Invalid Loan Society," of which 
she had been the initiator. 

The sixteenth annual report of this societ}^, 
which A. S. Procter brought out in the spring of 
the year in which she died, has an apt quotation 
from Whittier on the title page, 

^' Hands that ope but to receive. 
Empty close. They only live 
Richly, who can richly give." 

In gratefully thanking the many contributors to 
the work of the association, the report goes on 
to say that a long cherished desire had at length 
been realised, and a holiday house had been 
rented on a sunny hill-side in the country, for 
convalescents and others requiring rest and 
change. The number of holidays provided 
during the year had been larger than ever 
before, and extracts are given from grateful 
letters received from participants in the help 

The blessing attendant upon her labours 
was widely felt ; and after her death, a few of 



her friends, wishiog to perpetuate her memory, 
resolved to work for the purchase of a small 
holiday home on the above lines, where the 
convalescent branch of the society's labour 
could be permanently carried on, and which 
should go by the name of " The Anna S. Procter 
Memorial House." The circular sent out was 
generously responded to, and a house has been 
bought in a beautiful location, which is now 
furnished, and doing its work of recruiting 
delighted invalids. 

Anna S, Procter was exceedingly warm in 
her attachment to personal friends, and the tie 
of relationship was held very dear. A few 
extracts from letters may serve to illustrate her 
beautiful and many-sided character. 

Alluding to the death of her mother, she 
wrote : " This is Sunday afternoon — a hard, hard 
time ! We cannot help going back in mind and 
heart to that other Sunday nine weeks ago. The 
great loss of that day seems somehow to prepare 
one for any change or loss that may come. 
Change of any kind used to look strange and 
almost practically impossible ; we lived so long 
all together so quietly. But now anythhig seems 
possible. I think I had too much settled down 
in a sort of unconscious security, and clinging to 



an earthly love — earthly? Can anything so 
sweet and tender and true he called so ? " 

In 1883 she wfote : " We were very much 
interested in hearing that Uncle Isaac is coming 
home so soon (after his seven years' journey). 
I should think he will feel a little like Rip van 
Winkle when he gets among his grandchildren, 
they will be so much altered; only he has cer- 
tainly not been asleep in the meantime. It is 
rather curious to think I have been lying on this 
bed ever since he went away, except a few hours 
in the garden, and in other beds, for spring 
cleaning, etc." 

In regard to the prospect of Isaac Sharp's 
world-wide mission in 1890, at eighty-four years 
of age, she observed : " Before I saw him and 
heard his wonderful history, I thought — almost 
hoped — that the meetings would not forward his 
designs. But after — well — I don't think any 
true, loyal-hearted Quaker could be bold enough 
or craven enough to oppose what bears the 
impress of a real commission from the King. 

"J. and I have very much enjoyed reading 
* All sorts and conditions of men,' by Walter 
Besant ; the style and the thoughts were very 

* Isaac Sharp was A . S. Procter's uncle by marriage. 




new to us. I felt very great pity for both the 
writer and Angela and Harry, when I thought of 
the low standard of joy and pleasure that they 
possessed, and read of all their painstaking 
endeavours to make people happy, which yet fell 
so far short. And then, their unblushing false- 
hoods ! they were indeed Jesuitical in this 
respect. But with all their faults we loved them 
still, and delighted in reading of their wonderful 

In a letter to a cousin about to take a long 
journey, she wrote : " I have been reading over 
again a most consolatory passage in ' The 
Diurnal ' about separation : see August 22nd. [It 
alludes to the fact that thoughts and sympathies 
are perfectly independent of geography.] I 
like to think of the waters being in the * hollow 
of God's hand ! ' Uncle Isaac's traveller's Psalm 
(cxxi.) will often be turned into a prayer for 

Then in the first letter written after the 
arrival in the distant land : " It is strange I have 
been so long a time in beginning to write to 
thee. The idea of sending a letter so far has 
somehow a tendency to make one feel as if one 
must write a thoroughly complete, well considered 
epistle, and wait for an opportunity when one 



has plenty of time to devote to it. But this is a 
false instinct, and I don't mean to let it influence 
me any more. An impromptu letter straight out 
of the heart, and with every-day occurrences and 
passing thoughts dashed down on the paper just 
as they come into one's head, is of course far 
more calculated to take a real bit of oneself over 
sea and land to our dear far away^ near friends. 
. . . When I look back on the time since the 
morning we parted from you, it seems very full 
and very busy. I suppose well people think of 
my life as one of monotonous invalidism, while 
to me it is full of business and variety. 

" We had a garden party here lately in 
connection with the Invalid Loan Society. Many 
of the invalids had been renovated at the nice 
little lodging at Riding Mill. If they had all 
belonged to the upper ten they could not have 
behaved more beautifully ; but I feel sure that 
they do belong to a far more exalted upper ten 
than is generally alluded to in that phrase — 
they were mcli nice people. They had tea at a 
long table under the trees. It was a beautiful, 
breezy, sunshiny day. I was there in my garden 
wheeler — the first party I have attended for how 
many years I cannot tell. There was an al fresco 
concert in the evening. The piano was out in 



the croquet ground, and two ladies came and 
sang beautiful hymns. One of the most appre- 
ciative auditors was a little baby a few months 
old, who was in a state of great delight, hands 
and eyes dancing to the music ; while another 
about the same age. just sat like a log. J., being 
unable to mix with our guests, wrote them a 
letter of greeting and consolation — a very 
neighbourly letter with ver}' happy religion in it. 
L. read it aloud after tea, and the reading was 
followed by a murmur of applause, culminating 
in a blind woman's voice, saying, ' beau -ti-ful.^ * 
I think I shall never forget that blind woman — 
such a patient face she had, and such a life of 
contented toil she seemed to lead all in the dark 
— only the light of trust shining round her. She 
has a large family, some of whom she has never 
seen, and she does the washing and baking for 
them all." 

Friends travelling in the ministry were 
frequent visitors at the bedside of Anna S, 
Procter. Her remarks in regard to them not 
only show her appreciation of the visits, but her 
ready descriptive power, and a sympathetic 
understanding of people which was characteristic 
of her. Of one she wrote : " Xoble indeed she 
is in no common degree, and in as large a degree 



is she humble and gentle and loving. Her 
prayer was exceedingly pure and spiritual. In 
features and complexion it is possible she may 
be considered plain, but the varying expressions, 
always good, but so different, so animated and 
responsive, make it difficult to realise that such 
may be the case." 

Of another : " Her face is indeed an eloquent 
sermon on the 'peace that passeth understanding.' 
The expression round the mouth was indes- 
cribably lovely. The day after she had been 
here I came upon a poem of Whittier's, which, 
with one little alteration exactly fits : 

<t <• Thy grace is in her patient eyes, 

Thy words are on her tongue ; 
The very silence round her seems 

As if the angels sung. 
Her smile is as a listening child's. 

Who hears its mother's call ; 
The lilies of Thy perfect peace 

About her sweet lips fall.' 

" I think such an one as this is a living 
proclamation, si.gned and sealed by the King 
Himself, that ' God is love.' " 

In another letter she wrote : A little 
bookmark before me has on it my best beloved 
Revised Version alteration : ' Blessed be the Lord, 



who daily beareth our burden.' ' Oz^r,' that must 
mean all who will surrender themselves and all 
their burdens to Him. It's fijie ! " 

For the last few months before the end 
came our dear sufferer endured untold agonies. 
When free from pain she liked to be read to. 
The day before she " flew away and refused to 
come back again," she had the day's portion read 
to her from her dearly loved copy of " Daily 
Light." This was the last scripture she heard : 
" Behold, I send an angel before thee, to keep 
thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place 
which I have prepared." . , . "0 send out 
Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me ; let 
them bring me unto Thy holy hill, and to Thy 
tabernacles. Then will I go unto the altar of God ; 
unto God my exceedimg joy ; yea, upon the 
harp will I praise Thee, God, my God." A 
breath of heavenly consolation swept over with 
what was read, and she said, " That is beautiful^'' 
in a tone of the deepest content. 

And now her friends love to think of her — 
all suffering past — realising the triumphant truth : 
In Thy presence is fulness of joy, at Thy right 
hand there are pleasures for evermore." 
Charlotte Ramsden, 58 4 lOmo. 1897 
Cleckheaton. Wife of Job Ramsden. 



William Eaven, 52 18 6mo. 1898 

Feering^ near Kelvedon, 
MaryRheam, 65 22 7mo. 1898 

Claugliton^ Birkenhead. Wife of Henry C. 


Mary Anne Roberts, 84 21 12mo. 1897 

William R. Roberts, 67 31 3mo. 1898 

Ann Robinson, 77 23 Imo. 1898 

Didshury^ Mancliester. Widow of Edmund 

John Robinson, 85 16 llmo. 1897 


Eliza RosLiNG, 60 14 7mo. 1898 

Hatfield Peverell^ near Chelmsford. Wife of 
Alfred Rosling. 
Richard B. Rutter, 72 18 9mo. 1898 
Bedlandj Bristol. A Minister. 

Richard Ball Rutter was the son of Samuel 
and Elizabeth Rutter, and was born in Bristol in 
1826. He was a younger member of a large 
family of sons and daughters, only one of whom 
f?urvives him. His mother was a sister of the 
late William Ball, of Rydal. His grandfather, 
Thomas Rutter, was an esteemed minister in 
Bristol in the last centur3\ 



There is scarcely any record of his early 
years. When he was quite young a love for 
poetry manifested itself, and being encouraged 
by his mother to learn pieces by heart, and 
having an excellent memory, his mind was 
stored with Scripture and hymns, and this was 
invaluable to him in later life. On the death of 
his father, when R. B. Rutter was nineteen years 
of age, the family removed to Shotley Bridge^ 
Durham, and he found employment in a bank at 

In 1854, with some other members of the 
family, he emigrated to Australia, and was fur- 
nished with a certificate of membership signed 
by upwards of thirty Friends of Newcastle 
Monthly Meeting, the list being headed by the 
venerable George Richardson. 

The rough life of the colony was little 
suited to his taste, and he returned to Newcastle 
at the end of two years. Here he made his 
home for upwards of thirty years, and was again 
engaged in a bank in the town. 

In 1863 he married Anna Maria Clapham,of 
Newcastle. It seems probable that between the 
time of his return to England and his marriage 
he experienced a marked change in his religious 
life, but he does not appear to have left any 



record of this. In 1860 he believed it right to 
be baptised and to partake of the " Supper," and 
deemed it his duty to send in his resignation of 
membership with Friends. Tliis was not, how- 
ever, accepted, and in after years his opinion on 
these points was entirely changed. 

In later years R. B. Rutter was in the 
practice of writing a short summary of the 
principal events, of the year, both public and 
private. From these records may be traced 
eome of his religious experiences during the last 
thirty years of his life. He began to speak in 
meetings for w^orship at Newcastle in 1870, and 
was recorded a minister in the following year. 
At the close of that year is the following record : 
In January, 1870, I repeated the First Psalm in 
meeting, and have continued to repeat passages 
of Scripture, sometimes with and sometimes 
without remarks. I hope to be allowed to con- 
tinue this little work, though I do not always 
find it an easy or a pleasing duty. I began it 
principally for the sake of two near and dear 
persons. 1871 — I have continued to quote 
Scripture and make remarks in our meetings for 
worship during this year. What I now want is 
matter, experience, something to tell that is 
worth hearing, and that may do real good. This 



is to be obtained by deep inward work and 
fervent prayer." In 1874 a relative wrote to 
him : " I cannot tell thee the help thy ministry 
has been to me for months past." 

Some years later he writes : " My idea of the 
relative importance of ministerial qualifications 
is : First, personal piety ; second, a call from 
God ; third, deep scriptural knowledge ; fourth, 
personal experience ; fifth, sympathy ; sixth, 
hunger for souls ; seventh, good sense and tact ; 
eighth, clear speech and free speech ; ninth, 
human learning." In the early years of the 
exercise of his gift he frequently alludes to the 
training of his voice. 

R. B. Rutter was a man of impulsive 
temperament and much versatility, and the 
character of his ministry was no doubt influenced 
by his natural endowments. As was remarked in 
a notice in " The Friend," his style was highly 
original, sometimes almost dramatic, with illus- 
trations culled from his own experience or 
reading. He often concluded with repeating a 
hymn in a very impressive manner. His reading 
was of a varied character, and in later years he 
studied Greek, in order to ascertain the true 
sense of the New Testament in the original tongue. 
Some of his friends might not always agree 



with all he said, but he may be truly described 
as a faithful minister of Jesus Christ. 

A friend of R. B. Butter's has furnished the 
following communication : " It is, I suppose, 
something like twenty-six years ago that our 
meeting at Newcastle was — I will not say 
agitated, but — gently swayed to and fro by a 
proposal to read the Bible in our meetings for 
worship. Most of the younger generation were 
in favour of the suggestion, but one or two of 
our oldest and most esteemed Friends deprecated 
the change. I need not say that this was not 
from any want of love for the Bible on their 
part, but only because they feared lest pre- 
arrangement and the institution of a Calendar of 
Lessons might interfere with the freedom and 
spirituality of our worship. After two or three 
meetings and conferences the matter was settled 
by the withdrawal of the proposal, as the young 
and middle-aged Friends felt that it would be 
selfish to press for a change which would 
evidently be so painful to their older brethren. 
We were richly rewarded for this little act of 
Christian courtesy. I think it was on the next 
Sunday after the first debate that Richard B. 
Rutter rose from his seat at the further end of 
the meeting, and repeated slowly and with deep 



feeling the magnificent sixty-third chapter of 
Isaiah (' Who is this that coineth from Edom 
with dyed garments from Bozrah?'). The 
effect was most impressive, far more so than any 
ordinary reading of the chapter. For Kichard 
Butter was, as we all now know, essentially a 
poet ; and more than most poets, he had studied 
not merely the composition but the right utter- 
ance of poetry. In his case Mrs. Browning's 
dictum was not true : 

' Poets ever fail in reading their own verses to 
their worth. 

For the echo in you breaks upon the words which 

you are speaking, 
And the chariot wheels jar in the gate through 

which you drive them forth '; 

for he had a wonderful power of rendering both 
his own and other men's poetry with the right 
emphasis and intonation. Thus it was that the 
glorious poetry of Isaiah seemed to acquire fresh 
beauty and deeper significance when recited to 
us on that Sunday morning by our new minister. 
For some months, I think, R. B. Rutter mostly 
confined himself to the mere repetition of pas- 
sages, sometimes pretty long passages, of Scrip- 
ture. He had a splendid memory, strengthened by 
long practice in learning by heart the works of 



our English poets (I believe he could repeat 
many scenes, if not whole plays of Shakespeare) ; 
and, as he used often to say at this time, too 
modestly, ' I have but the one talent of memory, 
but I will devote that to the service of the 
Church.' How the one talent made many more 
like it : how the simple repetition of inspired 
Scriptures gradually grew into a most rich and 
varied 'gift in the ministry' I must leave other 
pens to describe. My mind goes back with 
gratitude, but also with sadness in the thought 
that I shall hear his voice no more, to that first 
delightful dawn of his ever helpful ministry." 

About the year 1880, finding himself in a 
position to retire from business, and his health 
and that of bis wife requiring a milder climate, 
they decided to take up their residence in his 
native city, and took a house at Elgin Park, Red- 
land. Here K. B. Rutter found scope for the 
exercise of the various gifts with which he was en- 
trusted. He divided his attendance between the old 
meeting at " The Friars " and the newly established 
one at Redland, which he regularly attended on 
First-day evenings; and it is rather a significant 
fact, that at the time the attendance at the latter 
meeting was much larger in the evening than in 
the morning. He was also a faithful pastor 




of the flock, and bis visits to the sick, the infirm, 
and those in sorrow were much appreciated. He 
and his wife were in the habit of inviting young 
men to their house on First-days to tea ; and 
since his death his widow has received several 
testimonies to the value of this intercourse to 
those who were privileged to share in it. 

He was, as is well known, a voluminous 
writer, principally of poetical pieces, published in 
The Friend," " The British Friend," and the 
" Friends' Quarterly Examiner." His " Spiritual 
Diary " is no doubt in the possession of many 

For many years up to about the year 1882 
R. B. Butter had been a regular attender of the 
Yearly Meeting ; but the action of the Society in 
reference to the Home Mission Committee met 
with his strong disapproval, as he considered it a 
departure from its principles in respect of payment 
of ministers. He felt so strongly on this subject 
that he thought right for a considerable period to 
vacate his seat in the ministers' gallery. This 
however did not interfere with his ministry to 
any great extent ; but he never resumed his at- 
tendance at the Yearly Meeting. 

In 1883 he was much engaged in executor- 
ship affairs. In reference to this, he writes, 



" I think I have been benefited spiritually by 
having been obliged to return to " business " as 
executor on a large scale ; there was a real danger 
of sinking into the mere religionist." 

In 1880 or 1881 he was One ot a com- 
mittee of the Yearly Meeting appointed to 
visit the meetings of Friends in Ireland, and he 
crossed the Channel several times on this service. 

Sidcot and its neighbourhood was a favourite 
resort, and his visits there were much appreciated 
by the Friends who were engaged in the school, 
and also by the children. 

In 1886, he issued an epistle addressed " to 
the younger members of Bristol and Frenchay 
Monthly Meeting." It is too long to be introduced 
here in extenso, but the opening sentences may be 
quoted : — " We may well thank the Giver of every 
good that He has in great mercy visited the 
hearts of all ; and that so many of you earnestly 
desire to respond to His call for whole-hearted 
dedication to Him of both soul and body. Your 
older friends often feel that they can help you 
but little. He, however, can ' supply all your 
need,' and you know the privilege of access to the 
Father Himself through Jesus Christ the living 

This letter was reprinted and circulated by 



some Friends of Birmingham Meeting who had 
formerly been members of Bristol and Somerset 
Quarterly Meeting. 

E. B. Ratter appears to have taken a very 
humble view of his religious attainments, as will 
be seen from the subjoined memoranda : — 

In 1889 he writes : "I want to write the 
truth, but the task is too difficult for me. I do 
not know where I am ; but I think I know better 
than ever that God is love. 

In 1893 : " What I have most to regret is a 
general dulness of soul ; a want, and I fear an 
increasing one, of spirituality. ' My soul cleaveth 
to the dust ; quicken Thou me.' " 

In 1894 : Gratitude to God has not been absent 
from my heart. If true religion consisted in 
deep feelings, I should have reason to despond, 
for I have but few ; but if it consists in an inward 
life and spirit, I think I may be glad. ' Keep 
Thou my feet.' — Amen." 

In 1896 : "Though there may not have been 
any falling away in Christian living, yet the 
general tone of life has been unspiritual and 
material. . . . Strange mixture, a better life 
but less consciousness of God's presence." 

In some of the records of earlier years he 
frequently alludes to besetting sins being over- 



come. He never speaks " as though he has 
already attained " ; but a growth in grace was 
undoubtedly experienced as years went on. 

The following verses, dated 1862, are 
interesting as showing his state of feeling at the 
time : 


Lord how many cruel foes, 

My conscience marshalls round me ! 

1 see Thy book of doom unclosed, 
My long-lost sins have found me. 

And joy, alas ! has flown aw^ay 

To hide in clouds above me ; 
And fell despair has dared to say 

That Thou hast ceased to love me. 

While thus the tempter stood revealed, 
And poised his darts before me, 

The Lord Himself became my shield,. 
And spread His mantle o'er me. 

My head He lifted while I wept ; 

I told Him all that pained me ; 
And soon I laid me down and slept. 

And woke, for He sustained me. 

Then let my faithless fear be gone, 

For He who died to save me, 
Will guide me as I journey on, 

To gain the home He gave me. 



'Tis built upon the living rock, 

Whose steadfastness has shown me 

That when the Shepherd folds His flock, 
He will not fail to own me. 

R. B. Rutter was never a strong man, and was 
subject to repeated attacks of illness ; but until 
about eighteen months before his death, he was 
able to employ himself as usual. During these 
months he was mostly confined to the house, but 
came downstairs for some part of the day. He 
much enjoyed the visits of his friends, and w^as 
able to enter into cheerful conversation ; and it 
was a privilege to sit with him on these occasions. 
At the close of the visit he would generally 
propose a time of prayer. The nature of his 
illness during the last few weeks was such as to 
preclude much expression ; but he was preserved 
in patience and in unfailing trust in his Redeemer 
to the end. 

Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and 
ours ; 

Jesus has vanquished death and all its powers. 
It is enough, earth's struggles soon shall cease, 

And Jesus give us heaven^s perfect peace." 
Letitia H. Saunders, 39 17 12mo. 1897 

Birmingham. Wife of Nathan Saunders. 
Edward Savage, 38 24 llmo. 1897 

South Wigstoii^ Leicestershire. 



Eliza L. Sayer, 52 26 lOmo. 1897 

Norioich. Wife of John Sayer. 
Andrew Scott, 80 5 5nio. 1898 


Benjamin Scott, 62 13 8mo. 1898 


Lucy Sewell, 75 26 12ino. 1897 

Leicester. Wife of Joseph S. Sewell. 

Jane Shafto, 52 28 9mo. 1898 


Alice Shaw, 23 7 9mo. 1898 

Belfast. Daughter of the late John Shaw. 
Esther Shepherd, 42 17 lOmo. 1897 

Brierfield. Wife of Lee R. Shepherd. 
W'lLLiAM Shrive, 69 18 12ino. 1897 

Wellingborough. A Minister. 
Elizabeth A. Smith, 74 31 12mo. 1897 

Great Bardjield. Widow of Henry Smith. 
Mary Smith, 78 13 3ino. 1898 

Lothersdale. Widow of James Smith. 
Sarah Smith, 78 4 Imo. 1898 


Mary Southey, 72 23 9mo. 1898 

Torquay. Widow of George Southey. 

Edith Spanton, 2 15 2mo, 1898 

Great Yarnwuth. Daughter of Walter and 
Sarah Spanton. 



James B. Sparke, 

Alfred H. Spence, 

Clifton^ York. 
Dorcas Squire, 

Great JBerkhamp stead, 
Edward L. Squire, 

Alfred Stephens, 

Edward Sturge, 

Edward B. Sturge, 

Catherine Tangye, 

Illogan^ Redruth 
James Tanner, 

— 16 5mo. 1898 

78 10 4mo. 1898 

75 26 llmo. 1897 

50 11 3mo. 1898 

73 27 llmo. 1897 



3mo. 1898 

3mo. 1898 

72 6 Imo. 1898 
Wife of James Tangye. 
62 13 12mo. 1897 

Tauranga, Aucldand^ New Zealand. 
Ann Taylor, 88 29 12mo. 1897 

Spring Grove^ Middlesex. 
Jacob Taylor, 72 19 llmo. 1897 

Cleveleys, Lancashire. 
Eliza Thompson, 66 29 4mo. 1898 


John Thompson, 91 18 7mo. 1898 

Kilharchan^ near Paisley. 

A man of affairs, at one time a considerable 



employer of labour and an experienced civic 
ruler, John Thompson was, in all his relations 
with others, distinguished by a genial Christian 
courtesy, and, although distinctly fearless and 
outspoken on all matters of principle, he was of 
so broad a liberality that every honest opinion 
was secure of his respectful and considerate 
treatment. A marked feature of his character, 
down to the latest years of a long life, was a 
perennial youthfulness — an inspiring cheerful- 
ness — which commended his Christian profession 
and his Friends' principles to those around 

At the age of eighty-three, when a banquet was 
given in his honour by the citizens of Govan, the 
Chairman, ex-Provost Ferguson, with possibly 
as much truth as humour, said : "Our guest was 
born two years before Gladstone ; both are now 
between eighty and ninety years of age, but I 
don't think two sprightlier young fellows exist." 
His cheerfulness was associated with a kindly 
sympathy which won him friends of all ages, 
whilst his generosity towards those with whom 
he could not agree left him without an enemy. 
Vigorous political opponents he had at all times, 
but he awoke in them no personal hostility. 
None who came into close contact with him 



failed to feel the effect of a subtle personal 
charm which disarmed irritation and acrimony. 
Since J. Thompson's death, the Member for East 
Renfrewshire, Charles Bine Renshaw, has said 
of him : " He was a man of such exceptional 
points that he drew all men to him." 

Born at Hawes, in Wensleydale, in 1807, 
inheriting a large measure of character from his 
father, John Thompson, himself an exceptionally 
independent and courageous spirit, he was 
thrown into business after a slender Ackworth 
education, and had a more or less uphill com- 
mercial life until more than fifty years of age, 
when he became a member of the prosperous 
firm of Gray, Dunn, and Co., biscuit manufac- 
turers, of Glasgow. 

But mere business never prevented his 
devoting a large amount of his force in early 
life to his own culture, in later years to the com- 
mon welfare. Long before the reformed Parlia- 
ment, he was an ardent Liberal politician, and 
the cause of the slave had a devoted friend in 
him ; and when the struggle against the Corn 
Laws came, he threw himself into it with all the 
force of a burning conviction. 

Whilst closely occupied in the affairs of a 
large business, he made time to do good service 



to the Corporation of Govan, and eventually 
became its Provost. How he bore himself in 
office may be judged from the opinion of the 
Burgh Surveyor, who says : " When I recall his 
genial presence and his generous kindness, shown 
in all his utterances and actions, and the fearless 
independence of mind with which he formed his 
judgments on all matters, I feel that it is but 
seldom in a life-time that we find so many 
admirable qualities of character united in one 

Nor was this estimate the issue of natural 
qualities only. John Thompson brought to his 
civic duties an unflinching yet benign Christian 
spirit, which placed above all motives of mere 
expediency a watchful attitude towards the 
observance of dignity and uprightness in the 
management of the people's affairs ; and this was 
gratefully recognised by men of widely diver- 
gent minds, and in a variety of wa3^s. John 
Macleod, minister of the Presbyterian Church of 
Govan, writes of him : " I have not known any- 
one of whom I had a higher or more reverential 
regard." He refers to " the singularly beautiful 
and sweet example of his life," and to " the 
reverence and affection entertained for him by 
all who knew him." Nor do these noble terms 



convey any sense of exaggeration to his personal 
and most intimate friends. 

He was especially happy in winning the 
confidence of young men, and in inspiring them 
with a measure of his own hopefulness, sym- 
pathising with them as an elder brother without 
a suspicion of condescension. Nor was his 
interest in them evanescent, but once won, was 
always at their service. 

Although not a preacher of the Gospel in the 
meeting-house, he was a living example of 
practical Christianity, known and read of all 

In 1890 he retired from business and settled 
at Kilbarchan, retaining to the last the bright- 
ness of his spirit and much of his intellectual 
vigour. When he passed away at the age of 
ninety-one, and his remains were laid in the little 
cemetery near his home, twenty-five of his old 
hands came down from Glasgow to represent the 
firm from which John Thompson had severed his 
connection seven years before, and to lay a 
wreath upon his coffin, bearing the inscription, 
" In loving memory of a dear employer and 
friend ; from his old employees." 
John E. Tpiompson, 56 25 9mo. 1897 

UnnstoUj 21aiich ester. 


Mary H. Thorp, 48 8 8mo. ISm 

Leicester. Widow of Frederick W. Thorp. 
Henry Tidbury, 65 15 Imo. 1898 

Thornhury^ near Epp'mg, 
Elizabeth Tuckett, 65 16 2mo. 1898 

William J. Turtle, 80 28 9mo. 1898 


John Waddington, 75 26 2mo. 1898 


Charles F. Wakefield, 92 28 4mo. 1898 
Portadovm. A Minister. 

The life of our dear friend Charles F. 
Wakefield almost spanned the nineteenth 
century. It was his privilege to have been 
nurtured in a Christian home, at a time when 
Ireland was recovering from the shock of a 
cruel rebellion, and when the Society of Friends 
was emerging from the effects of a sad Unitarian 
heresy which swept away most of those wha 
held prominent places in it. . 

The Rebellion of 1798 was a severe trial of 
the peace principles so precious to the Society 
of Friends, and to which they adhered with 
remarkable fidelity. It was a cause of great 
thankfulness that when, in the South of Ireland, 




Friends and their families were surrounded by 
robbery, destruction, and slaughter, only one 
young man lost his life. He had fled to a 
garrison town, and taken up arms against the 
rebels. While the strife continued Friends 
moved about unarmed, and were regarded as the 
friends both of the rebel and the loyalist. 

When the wave of heresy had spent itself, 
it seemed as though the Society was almost 
desolated. Meetings for discipline had been 
discontinued, and disorder reigned throughout, 
until a few young men who had stood for the 
faith once delivered to the saints, became the 
means of restoring the discipline. Among the 
number was T. C. Wakefield, the father of the 
subject of this little memoir, who now filled the 
lapsed office of clerk in his own Monthly 

These trials, as we can well understand, 
imparted to those who remained faithful a 
robustness of Christian purpose which bore fruit 
in after life in the character of the dear friend 
we have under review. 

His father had married Jane S. Goff, of Co. 
Wexford. She proved a true helpmeet in times 
of jo}^ and sorrow. A loving testimony to her 
worth as a wife may be inserted here. Her 



husband writes : " A better wife no man ever 
had. Her heart overflowed with love to me and 
all around. Her mind was stayed upon her God, 
Our children were tenderly brought up, and she 
was enshrined in their memory as a wise and 
loving parent." 

In this christian home C. F. Wakefield grew 
to sturdy, thoughtless manhood — one among 
many instances of the fact that grace is not a 
matter of heredity, and that " no man can redeem 
his brother, or give to God a ransom for him." 

His first childish recollection of prayer was 
" Our Father," learned in his mother's arms. On 
his return from school, his father, who bore firm 
rule in his own household, placed the lad in the 
linen business with himself. In all weathers his 
son attended the linen markets, making little of 
riding twenty or thirty miles in the early 
morning, to be in time for their opening. This 
mode of tracsit, so common at that time, 
probably fostered a love of riding, and inter- 
course with those who were outside the circle of 
his Quakeriy associations. Gradually he 
developed a passion for field sports, and for 
mixing with gay company, where his attractive 
appearance and manners made him a welcome 



In speaking of this period of his life he 
used to say : " A gentle and familiar step could 
be heard in the stillness of my chamber, and my 
mother would be at my bed-side, a feeling 
having taken possession of her mind that I 
needed a word in private, or that I might be 
intending to join the hunt on the morrow." He 
would then describe how touching her counsels 
proved in his experience, and how his proud 
spirit bowed under the power of maternal love. 
When, in his public addresses, he has often pleaded 
with the mothers respecting their privilege and 
power in leading their children earl}^ to God, a 
deep feeling has spread over the audience as he 
spoke of his own early experience. 

During this time of thoughtless gaiety, 
although he was preserved from open vice, his 
parents were under much concern for his soul's 
welfare. We need hardly say his mother 
wrestled in prayer for her beloved son. And 
we shall now relate how prayer was answered 
so as to rejoice the hearts of those who loved him. 

While quite a young man C. F. Wakefield 
found much interest in travelling as guide with 
J. J. Gurney and his party in the north and west 
of Ireland. The impressions then made, we 
cannot but believe, were never entirely dispelled. 



When about twenty-six years of age he 
reached the crisis of his life, which we prefer to 
describe in his own words, as told to a relative 
about two years before his death. On asking 
for particulars, he replied, "Yes, I well remember 
the day. It was in Moyallon Meeting-house. 
Dear Stephen Grellet in his ministry laid my 
state open and bare. He then told me if I did 
not yield to the call of my Heavenly Father the 
consequences would be very sad. He proceeded 
to say, ' I see as it were the sword drawn, and it 
is about to fall if there is any hesitation on the 
part of an individual present to come out on the 
Lord's side.' I sat bowed to the ground. I 
knew his words had reference to my case. 
Blackness of darkness seemed before me, and I 
believed it would be my last call. There and 
then I yielded entirely to the power that spoke 
to me through my dear friend, and made no 
reserve. I had two horses in the stables ready 
for the season's hunting. I sold them, and 
carried my gun down to the river, broke it in 
two, and threw it in. I had made an appoint- 
ment to meet some of my gay companions, and 
when they asked me why I did not keep my 
engagement, I told them frankly that I had for 
ever done with the world and its pleasures, and 
was now serving a better Master. 


" But no tongue can tell the agony I bad 
still to pass through as my past life came in 
review before me, and the requirements of my 
dear Heavenly Father were made plain. 

" My precious mother used to come to my 
bedside, and sit with me far into the night, 
entering into my state with prayer and sympatln\ 
She had long watched over my soul in those 
early days of carelessuess and gaiety, and she 
now rejoiced on my account. Dear Stephen 
Grellet took me with him to the South of Ireland, 
and greatly confirmed me by his preaching and 
his love. 

In that journey a friend of mine and myself 
received a distinct call to the ministry of the 
Gospel. Through great mercy I yielded ; but in 
the other case it was different, and loss and 
sorrow were the result. I cannot sufficiently 
praise and magnify the kindness and love of my 
Heavenly Father. I know I should not be here 
to-day had I not entered His service ; and I can 
at least tell others that He has been a good 
and gracious Master." This occurred during 
Stephen Grellet's last visit to this country in 

Having thus in his early youth yielded spirit, 
soul and body in obedience to the heavenly call 



he never swerved in his purpose of dedication, 
and was, after a time, recorded a minister of the 
Gospel in the Society of Friends. His ministry 
was often doctrinal, and very clear on the founda- 
tion truths of our hope in the love and mercy of 
God through His blessed Son. He was frequently 
led to speak of the baptism of Christ in distinction 
to the water baptism which John the forerunner 
had proclaimed ; and very often it seemed his 
duty to point to the privilege which the believer 
enjoys in the spiritual communion of the bread 
and water of life. 

The text was a very familiar one to his 
hearers : " Behold, I stand at the door and knock. 
If any man hear My voice and open the door, I 
will come in to him and sup with him and he 
with Me." We thus become spiritual communi- 
cants at the Lord's table. How often, too, our 
dear friend endeavoured to impress upon his 
hearers the truth of the universality of divine 
grace, and the all-importance of that offering 
made on Calvary for the sins of the whole 

In later years his spirit was more and more 
an exemplification of the apostle John's words : 
he that loveth God loveth his brother also." 
He lived in the atmosphere of this divine love, 



in which he embraced mankind, narrowed by 
neither creed nor country. 

For years he was a conspicuous figure in his 
neighbourhood, characteristic of a former gener- 
ation of QuakerisQi, and much honoured and 
respected. Appeals of all kinds were carried to 
his door, and were met in the same spirit, and he 
would invite the bearer of such appeals to come 
in, and after some friendly talk he would sit in 
silence for a time, to seek guidance. It must be 
added he generally felt free to respond with help. 

In 1839 he married Anne Moore, of Clon- 
mel, a recorded minister. They did not seem 
called to labour much outside their native land, 
but continued united in spirit and in service, 
working for the good cause in Ireland. 

To his tenants C. F. Wakefield was a kind 
and thoughtful landlord, living on happy, friendly 
terms with them ; and not unfrequently did he 
return the rent to the needy, when wintry weather 
reminded him that fire and clothing would be 
necessary for the family. 

His wife was removed by death in 1883 ; 
and although the stroke was deeply felt, he con- 
tinued bright and cheerful in spirit, entertaining 
a strong persuasion that they were still united in 
the service of the same blessed Master. 



His ninety-first birthday found him, in 
inclement wintry weather, travelling from Clon- 
mel to his home at Portadown, some 150 miles. 
He did not appear the worse for the long 
day's journey. It was his last journey, and he 
died in harness, as the minute which he had 
received for service in the South of Ireland was 
never returned. 

Once or twice afterwards he was out at 
Moyallon meeting, which he had attended regu- 
larly for eighty-seven years. His last address in 
the ministry was in Lurgan, where the word 
was with divine power, felt and alluded to by 
several present. 

Three days afterwards he was attacked by 
influenza, followed by bronchitis. The acute 
stage of the illness passed off, but it left him so 
prostrate that although he lingered for several 
weeks, there seemed no power to rally. He was 
often engaged in prayer and thanksgiving, and 
those around him could say that the promise was 
fulfilled, "At evening time there shall be light.'' 
There was no pain nor any disease apparent, the 
sufiiering being only from extreme weakness. 
When those around expressed a hope that he 
would be raised up for a little while, he would 
often point upward and say, " He knows best ; 
His will be done." 



He rarely, if ever, mentioned death. The 
great enemy seemed, as in George Fox's case, 
scarcely worth a mention. Many times he 
exclaimed, " The Lord's mercies to me have been 
wonderful — wonderful to a poor unworthy ser- 
vant. My only hope is in the Lamb of God, who 
taketh away the sin of the world." Gratitude 
for the kind attention of those around him was 
tenderly expressed. 

On the last morning his mind seemed wan- 
dering a little, and when a dear relative entered 
the room he exclaimed, as he drew her down for 
a fond embrace, " My dear child, thou hast come, 
and my dear mother has come also so strong in 
death was the memory of that beloved parent ; and 
who can tell how near she was. *' He giveth His 
angels charge " ; They are sent forth to minister 
unto the heirs of salvation. 

For many hours before his death he lay 
perfectly still ; and just before the end, with a 
loud voice, he twice exclaimed, " I am going 
home ! I am going home ! " 

" Mark the perfect man, and behold the 
upright, for the end of that man is peace." 
Maky Walker, 88 26 2mo. 1898 

Ulloch^ near Cochermoiith. Widow of Thomas 



Sarah Wallis, 73 24 12mo. 1897 

Basingstohe. Widow of Richard Wallis. 

Elizabeth Walpole, 64 18 llmo. 1896 
Ashhrook, Qaeen's Co. Widow of Joseph 

Joseph Warinq, 63 26 Imo. 1898 

Donnyhrooh. A Minister. 

Alfred Waterfall, 66 5 llmo. 1897 

Arnold S. Watson, 18 27 llmo. 1897 
Gateshead. Son of Robert S. and Elizabeth 

Lesley Watson, 15 2 3mo. 1898 

Scarborough. Son of Frances and the late 
William J. Watson. 

Mary Webb, 88 6 4mo. 1898 

Dublin. Widow of Thomas Webb. 

Wilhelmina Webb, 66 4 Imo. 1898 
Killiney^ Dublin. Wife of J ohn Webb. 

Mary Weir, 76 27 4mo. 1898 

Paidey. Wife of James W. Weir. 

Robert W. Wells, 54 13 Imo. 1898 


Jessie M. Wellstood, 75 9 4mo. 1898 
Edinburgh. Widow of Stephen Wellstood. 



Sarah Ann West, 74 5 12mo. 1897 

Hull Wife of Alfred West. 
Theodore West, 71 28 2mo. 1898 

Darlington. A Minister. 

Theodore West was the second son of the 
late William West, F.R.S., of Leeds, where he 
was born in Sixth Month, 1826. His parents 
sought to train their children in the fear of the 
Lord. Their rule was one of sympathy and love, 
and parent and child, when the latter had been 
guilty of serious wrong-doing, would kneel 
together to ask forgiveness for the fault and for 
help to overcome future temptation. On First- 
day afternoons the children were gathered 
together, and read verse by verse some passage 
from the Scriptures, their father questioning 
them and answering their questions, and explain- 
ing anything they did not understand. The 
good seed thus early sown was not sown in vain, 
but influenced for good the after-life of Theodore 
West and others in the family. 

He spent his school-days first in his native 
town, and then at the Friends' School at York ; 
and afterwards was trained as a mechanical 
engineer. His working hours were long, yet on 
First-day afternoons he shared in the teaching of 
a school carried on by the Congregational Church 



in Leeds, Friends there at that time having no 
Adult School. In later years at Darlington, with 
much interest he took some part in the work of 
the Adult Classes. 

In 1853, after his first marriage, he 
emigrated to Sydney, living there for some 
time. He visited the gold fields ; and returned 
to England in 1862, and in 1865 removed to 
Darlington, where he resided for the rest of his 

Theodore West was a warmly-attached 
member of the Society of Friends. He much 
enjoyed the silence in meetings for worship, and 
when living in " the bush " in Australia, it was 
his delight to worship God after our manner. 
He was recorded a minister by Darlington 
Monthly Meeting in 1867. He deeply felt the 
responsibility of this position, and exercised his 
gift in much humility, but with diligence and 
acceptance, till failing health prevented his 
attendance of meetings. 

The bent of Theodore West's mind was 
towards scientific investigation. He was deeply 
interested in natural history, and loved to draw 
the attention of the young to the handiwork of 
the Creator, his desire being to lead their 
thoughts through Nature up to Nature^s God, 




often quoting the Psalmist's exclamation, " 
God, how manifold are Thy works," and saying 
" how wonderful they are." He delivered very 
instructive lectures on various branches of 
natural history and other departments of science, 
seeking to encourage in his hearers the habit of 
careful observation and deduction, and to lead 
them to trace the finger of God in the world 
around them. 

He loved his divine Master's service, and 
looked forward hopefully to a time when he 
should be able to devote himself more fully to it. 
This, however, was not granted to him, but 
instead, he was laid aside by loss of health, and 
for his last six years had to endure much suffer- 
ing. But he bore it all in patience, never com- 
plaining, never murmuring, though the trial and 
disappointment were great to one of his love of 
mental activity. He much enjoyed the visits of 
bis friends, welcoming them with smiling, grate- 
ful greeting. His cheerfulness and his gratitude 
for every act of kind attention were instructive 
to witness. He had no fear of death ; he knew 
whom he had believed, and, like Paul, was per- 
suaded that He was able to keep that which he 
had committed to Him against that day ; and we 
believe he has now heard the glad welcome. 



Well done ! good and faithful servant, enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

With Christ ! sweet companionship 
For one who walked by faith with Him 
Along his busy earthly course ; 
However mists or clouds might dim 
The rugged path that lay between 
The things of time and things unseen. 

With Christ ! in life, in death, he knew 
In whom he had believed ; and now 
He sleeps in Jesus, and the seal 
Of God's own peace is on his brow. 
No more can sin, or grief, or pain 
Trouble this ransomed one again. 

With Christ ! henceforth his spirit shares 
The blessedness these words imply — 
The perfect love — faith changed to sight — 
Death swallowed up in victory. 
All earthborn shadows drawn aside, 
He sees Him, and is satisfied. 

Killiney^ Duhlln. An Elder. 

Henry Wigham was so well known in the 

Hannah E. White, 

Henry Wjgham, 

75 19 11 mo. 1897 

77 16 llmo. 1897 



Society of Friends, and indeed in the philan- 
thropic world, that but few words are required 
to present to our readers the earnest diHgent 
worker in the cause of righteousness, temperance, 
and peace. He was the son of John Wigham 
(tertius) of Edinburgh, and Jane (nee) Richardson 
of Whitehaven. His mother died when he was 
very young, and he and his younger brother 
shared the loving attentions of sisters a little 
older than himself. Along with them he laboured 
enthusiastically in his native city in the anti- 
slavery cause, and also took a leading part in 
Peace, Anti-capital Punishment, and kindred 
questions ; and was much esteemed and beloved. 

In the year 1856 he removed to Dublin to 
join his brother in business, who, as well as his 
eldest sister, had been settled there for many 
years. Here again he entered on a career of 
activity and usefulness, devoting himself with 
ardour to what he believed would most tend to 
tlie welfare of his adopted country. The Sunday 
closing of public-houses was a special object of 
his indefatigable labour, and there are many who 
can bear witness to his faithful attendance, night 
after night, in the lobby of the House of 
Commons, watching for and seizing upon every 
opportunity of forwarding the work he had so 



warmly at heart. He was rewarded by seeing a 
partial measure granted to Ireland, while, to the 
end of his life he faithfully laboured for the 
completion of that measure by its extension to 
the five " exempted towns " ; and nearly his last 
message to his friends and fellow workers on 
his death bed was : " Go, tell them to 

In 1858 he married Hannah Maria Peile, 
daughter of George and Mary Peile, of White- 
haven, in whom he found a sympathetic fellow 

Any mention of Henry Wigham would be 
incomplete without allusion to his devoted 
adhesion to the principles and practices of the 
Society of Friends, of which he was a member 
by birth and true conviction. He was not a 
recorded minister, but those who listened to his 
words of loving exhortation, and to his earnest 
prayers, must have felt that they were dictated 
by the Holy Spirit of truth and love, who ruled 
his life and made him a humble follower of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

His last illness was of short duration, and 
not accompanied by much suffering. His 
dying chamber was an abode of peace. As the 
days went by he was evidently drawing nearer 



to his Saviour, and feeling His sweet presence 
more and more intimately. Once, alluding to 
the temperance and other work he had loved so 
dearly, he said, "I leave it all with God." He 
knew that it was infinitely more God's work than 
his, and that He would care for it. He was very 
thankful to have the constant presence of two of 
liis sons during these last days, one of whom was 
about to return with his wife and family to his 
missionary work in China, and the other about 
to enter on similar work for his Lord in Pemba. 
He said, " It is trying to leave you all, but the 
prospect before me is a very happy and precious 
one." Once he seemed to be speaking with 
some one, but said when asked, " I was only 
speaking to my Lord. Oh He is very near, 
blessed be His name." He repeated the last 
verse of the xxiii Psalm, and uttered many 
glowing words of love for his friends in the seen 
and the unseen, and then, as peacefully as a 
child on his mother's breast, he fell asleep, to 
wake no more on earth. Those who looked on 
him remembered the words of the poetess : — 

Calm on the bosom of thy God, 

Sweet spirit, rest thee now ; 
E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, 

His seal was on thy brow. 



" Dust to its narrow bouse beneath, 
Soul to its place on bigli ; 
They that have seen thy look in death, 
No more may fear to die." 

Charlotte J.M.Williams, 2 9 4mo. 1898 
Camherioell. Daughter of John H. and 
Elizabeth Williams. 

Henry Wilmot, 91 14 Imo. 1898 


Ann Withers, 63 30 Imo. 1898 

Luton. Wife of William Withers. 

Frederic Wood, 61 19 3mo. 1898 

Burdi'opj Sihford. A Minister. 

Frederic Wood, second son of Benjamin 
and Anna Wood, was born at Tarbuck, near 
Liverpool, on the 14th of Third Month, 1837. 
Soon after his birth his parents weot to reside at 
Newton in Bowland, his father taking the 
superintendence of the Friends' School there. 
At the age of nine he went to Ackworth, where 
he remained for a period of six years. At school 
he was a universal favourite, and though not 
fond of outdoor sports or pastimes, was ever 
ready to enter into any form of boyish fun or 
mischief. An old schoolfellow writes : " He was 
a great favourite with us all for his humour and 



geniality, and I can remember his quaint speeches 
to this day." 

To this period he often alhides in after life, 
feeling that, perhaps through this inherent and 
innocent spirit of mirth, his teachers were often 
tried ; and he many a time feelingly spoke of 
their kind forbearance, especially remembering 
with gratitude the wise and loving tact of his 
beloved teacher, the late Thomas Puplett, to 
whose gentle Christ-like influence he owed much. 

While he was at Ackworth his parents 
removed to Ireland, where Benjamin Wood 
undertook the duties of Superintendent of the 
Friends' School at Mountmellick. Whilst there, 
their son Frederic having left school, was 
apprenticed to Thomas Purves, a Friend carrying 
on a grocery and seed business in Wexford, who 
was a relative of the famous explorer, Mungo 
Park. Although he had now very long hours, 
his love of study led him to find time for mental 
improvement by rising early, and thus having a 
quiet hour or two before the business premises 
were opened at six a.m. 

At the age of nineteen he was much inter- 
ested in reading the Life of Captain Hedley 
Vicars, and it was through the instrumentality of 
this book that he was led to give his heart to the 



Lord. Before this he had been under deep 
conviction of sin, and had passed through a 
season of great spiritual depression, months going 
by ere he obtained peace ; but when light at 
last broke in through the gloom, he felt like a 
new creature. The soul agony had been so 
intense that, for a time, his friends feared his 
health would entirely give way under the strain ; 
but who can now doubt that this trial was per- 
mitted, to give him a spiritual understanding and 
insight, which in after life should enable him 
wisely, lovingly and tenderly, to minister to 
others in a like extremity — a service he often 
accomplished in subsequent years, with wonderful 
results to the praise and glory of God. His life 
from this time was lived entirely for the Master, 
and he was ever ready to lend a helping hand to 
any project for the furtherance of the Gospel. 

His bright individuality endeared him to all, 
and as one of those interested in the promotion 
of the Young Men's Christian Association in 
Wexford, he worked unsparingly in making it a 
success. About this time also he started a night 
school for young men and lads who were 
employed during the day, and soon had a list of 
pupils numbering about thirty. INIan}^ of these, 
who are now filling useful places in the world, 



attribute their first real start in life to bis untiring 
and loving influence. 

In the autumn of 1863 be married Eliza 
Johnson, eldest daughter of Mordecai and Phebe 
Johnson, of Eose Hill, near Portadovvn, Co, 
Armagh. At this tin:ie he purchased the business 
of his employer, who retired, owing to increasing 
infirmities ; and, moving from the old place to 
more commodious premises, started on his own 

He was very conscientious, and his influence 
for good was of a marked and far reaching char- 
acter, as he preferred to suflier business losses 
rather than allow any practices which were not 
perfectly honourable and upright in every way. 
In this connection a Friend has written since his 
death : I found that in his business, as well as 
in his private life, he endeavoured to glorify his 
heavenly Father by his refined taste, his desire to 
give satisfaction, and by his upright business life." 

About the year 1880, he bought a small 
printing machine for use solely in connection 
with his own trade ; but other business men, 
seeing the class of work executed, soon came 
begging him to print for them. In this way the 
business increased so much that, in time, it had 
to be again and again removed to more extensive 



premises. Although he had never served any 
apprenticeship to the printing trade, he possessed 
such an inherent love of the beautiful and 
artistic, that soon his name became a household 
word amongst printers all over the world, and the 
firm gained a wide reputation. He eniplo3^ed a 
large staff of men, to whom, whether occupying 
the highest or the lowliest position in the works, 
he ever proved himself the wise friend and 
counsellor, taking a personal interest in each, and 
showing in many ways that he had their best 
welfare at heart. Many of these now testify to 
his Christ-like influence and words of advice, as 
often having been a means of great blessing and 
encouragement to them. A letter received from 
a former employee who had not heard of his 
death, says : " I have always felt you have 
taken an interest in my welfare, and to-day I am 
reaping some of the benefits of that interest. As 
I look back upon the past, the days spent in your 
employ appear as some of the brightest of my 
life." And in a letter to his daughter, another 
writes : " In the inscrutable workings of the 
Almighty, it has pleased Him to take away one 
who, by his affectionate and upright personality, 
endeared himself to all who had the privilege 
of knowing him. Always a true and loyal 



friend, his was a character that is in truth rarely 
met with, and we have lost a friendship that on 
this earth is not to be replaced." 

In 1875, he was recorded a minister by 
Wexford Monthly Meeting, his addresses having 
been most acceptable and helpful. Since then 
the same Monthly Meeting has, on various occa- 
sions, granted him minutes for service, both in 
England and Ireland. Friends much appreciated 
his visits, often writing of them afterwards as 
seasons of deep spiritual refreshment and encour- 

His great sympathy with and for others, and 
his sweet humility were very noticeable. He was 
ever ready to forget self and think of others. 
Eef erring to the couplet on his memorial card, 
inserted at his special request : — 

" I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all, 
But Jesus Christ is my all in all," 
one Friend writes: "They (the lines) so truly 
express the humility of our dear friend's 
character, and his firm faith in Jesus Christ. I 
always so much admired this in him ; and his 
words and manner were so marked with 
reverence that it impressed the hearers with the 
deep importance of the spiritual truths bein^ 
unfolded to them." 



Ever ready to extend the Kingdom of God^ 
he on various occasions gave his aid to other 
denominations, frequently at the request of the 
circuit ministers taking services in the local 
Methodist churches. About 1883 he started a 
Bible Class for young ladies, and every Sixth- 
day night a number gathered together for 
prayer and the study of the Scriptures. These 
classes were very helpful, and were much 
appreciated by all who had the privilege of 
being present. He possessed a wonderful 
knowledge of the Bible, and his explanation& 
and expositions of Scripture were the outcome 
of much earnest prayerful thought. To quote 
again from a letter received since his decease, a. 
fi*iend writes : " I always felt him to be 
one of the most chastened and deeply taught 
Christians in spiritual things I have had the 
privilege of knowing, and one feels that the 
Church on earth is all the poorer that he is no 
longer here." 

In the . spring of 1890 he attended Dublin 
Yearly Meeting, and while there wa6 taken 
seriously ill, the doctor giving little hope of hi& 
recovery. But all through he felt that the Lord 
would raise him up, and that there was further 
work for him to do. Contrary to expectation he 




gradually gathered strength, and was able to 
return home, where, after a while, he regained 
his wonted health. He was most anxious to 
have more opportunity for the Lord's work, 
feeling that much remained to be done, and that 
life was uncertain, and he eventually parted with 
his business, in the hope that when its ties were 
removed he would be more at liberty to be about 
the Master's work. But the Lord ordered it 

In the summer of 1897 he removed with his 
wife and daughter to England, settling down in 
the village of Sibford, Oxfordshire, where he 
quickly gained the love and respect of all. He 
took a great interest in the Adult School, and in 
various branches of Christian work, his ministry 
being much appreciated. But the Lord had 
need of His servant, and on the afternoon of 
Third Month 19th, 1898, took him to be for ever 
with Himself. 

His illness, which lasted three weeks, was 
borne with sweet Christian fortitude and sub- 
mission to the divine will. Ever thoughtful for 
others, it grieved him to give trouble, and he 
would often beg his nurses to take a rest. He 
.suffered much at times from extreme weakness 
.and exhaustion, but never a murmur passed his 



lips ; ever the same bright, happy spirit to the- 
end, encouraging those around him, and speaking- 
words of comfort and consolation to his sorrow- 
ing loved ones. He looked forward with joyful- 
ness to his release, and longed to be with hia 

Very many have been the loving testimonies^ 
received since his departure, of the blessing 
which has rested on his life and labours ; and 
truly it can be said of him, " That he being dead,, 
yet speaketh." 

Lucy M. Woods, 92 23 2mo. 189^ 


Thomas Woolman, 66 21 3mo. 1898- 

William Woolston, 81 19 9mo. 1898- 

Wellingborough. An Elder. 
William Workman, 80 20 9mo. 189^- 


Dinah J. Wright, 87 20 4mo. 1898- 

Esher. Wife of Thomas Wright. 
Samuel Wright, 37 25 6mo. 1898- 

St John's Wood. 
Pardoe Yates, 39 27 9mo. 1898^ 

Wilton^ near Salishiiry. 
Alfred Yeardley, 65 6 6mo. 189S 




Infants ivJiose names are not inserted 




Under three months , . 1 
From three to six montlis , 2 
From six to twelve months . 3 

William Uhrich Ditzler. 

Tahen from a ALemorial issued hy the Monthly 
Meeting of Friends of the Western District 
of Philadelphia, 

William Uhrich Ditzler, son of Christian 
and Christina Ditzler, was born near Lebanon, 
an Pennsylvania, on the 3rd of First Month, 
1821, and died at his residence near Downing- 
itown, on the 2nd of First Month, 1897, aged 
aearly seventy-six years. 

His father, a tailor by occupation, served at 
itimes as a minister in meetings of the Lutheran 
congregation of his birthplace, which, under the 
name of the " Church of Mount Zion," had been 
established under the ministry of his ancestor, 
who was among the early German immigrants 
into Pennsylvania. His father sought carefully 
to imbue his children's minds with the teachings 
of his church. His mother was tenderly con- 



cerned for the spiritual blessing of her son, the 
more so when she saw, when he was three years 
of age, that she must soon depart this life. It is 
believed that her earnest travail of spirit before 
her decease, for a blessing on her child, and her 
strong supplications for his dedication to God 
were signally answered in all the way in which 
he was afterwards led. 

It was in the time of his early boyhood that 
there came a remarkable deepening of spiritual 
interest in the congregation of which his family 
vvas a part. Such a divine solemnity overspread 
the meeting that the choir could no longer pro- 
ceed with the music. For some four years the 
organ was closed, and the worshippers often sat 
under a holy covering of divine power, and of 
that praise which " is silent for Him in Zion.'' 

For a few years during his youth he was 
much confined in or near his home by a lameness 
which kept him from the usual diversions of 
boyhood, and gave him much time for thought 
and meditation. In his fifteenth year he 
attended the meetings of a Methodist bod}^^ 
called Evangelical Friends. In this period he 
was visited with a clear sense of his state by 
nature and of the awfulness of sin, to such a 
degree that he told his father he was " lost."" 



His father called upon the members of his con- 
gregation to pray for his distressed boy. At 
length relief came. William was sitting alone, 
as was his wont, upon the stones in an old 
quarry. " This text of Scripture," he writes, 
was powerfully applied to my mind : ' The 
Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins,' 
which was accompanied with such a sweet 
heavenly sensation that I did believe that the 
Lord had passed by my former transgressions 
and adopted me amongst His children." Such 
heavenly light and peace filled his heart that 
everything inwardly and outwardly, he said, 
•seemed changed as in a moment. So that when 
he went home he could say, " Now, father, I 
know I am not lost ! " 

His brief written account of this period 
•continues thus : " My father, by this time, heard 
of my going to the Evangelical Friends, and he 
began to oppose me and force me to go to the 
Lutheran Church to be confirmed. I submitted 
to it, but only attended three times, and in six 
months after I joined in fall membership with 
the Evangelical Methodists, which exasperated 
my father so much that he took me away from 
«chool. ... In consequence of this I lost a 
large share of learning." 



While sitting before the large open fire- 
place one day, about this time, he saw a pano- 
rama, as he expressed it, of his history for the 
coming half-century. It seemed to start with 
laying aside his crutches and leaving his father's 
house, to travel alone upon unknown roads to a 
great city, which appeared clearly before him, 
with its many streets, houses, and steeples, where 
he would live, moving in and out as a minister 
of the everlasting Gospel. All this seemed more 
than he could believe ; so that he exclaimed (in 
his native German), " Impossible ! Impos- 
sible ! " which his father overhearing, inquired 
the cause. 

It had long been the cherished purpose of 
his father and friends to see William follow in 
the footsteps of his ancestors for some genera- 
tions as a minister of the Gospel. But the 
spirituality .of the Gospel dispensation was 
becoming unfolded to the boy's mind, including 
the nature of Christ's baptism as the true suc- 
cessor of that of John by water, and the new 
and spiritual communion as the true advance 
beyond the passover-form with bread and wine. 
Other forms, like the saying of "grace" at 
meals, confirmation, and stated exercises as wor- 
ship were growing more and more questionable 
to him. 



One day, while standing at a railroad station, 
he observed at a window of a train a man and 
two women in a peculiar garb, which called 
forth his inquiry who they were. He was told 
they were some Quakers from Philadelphia : 
that they did not believe in water baptism, paid 
ministry, war, etc. A desire at once sprang up 
in his mind to know more of such people, who 
held views of the Christian religion of which he 
was already secretly persuaded. 

His radical difference from his father's 
views concerning the so-called sacraments 
became in due time manifest. Stringent 
measures were taken to bring him into con- 
formity with the practice of his church, but 
without avail. Intercourse with others was cut 
off by solitary confinement for a whole week or 
more, to give him an opportunity to come to 
what was deemed a right mind on that question. 
But neither argument, fear, nor persuasion could 
change his views as to the purely spiritual 
aspect of Christ's doctrine ; and after some 
years his father became reconciled to his son's 

At length he felt that his true home lay in 
the direction where the drawings of Truth 
seemed to lead him. He found his way to 



Philadelphia when about nineteen years of age. 
There he very soon saw men and women in the 
garb in which Friends were first presented to his 
view. He followed them till he found himself 
sitting in their meeting for worship. He was so 
impressed with the reality of the worship in that 
silent waiting that he mentally exclaimed: -'This 
meeting is my meeting, and this people is my 
people ! " 

His own account of this meeting is q<s 
follows : " Some time past I went to a Friends' 
or Quakers' meeting, where I saw a number of 
people sitting together in silence, with which I 
was very much struck. Many of them appeared 
to be gathered into a state of holy introversion 
from every earthly object, and the countenances 
of many of them evinced that they held com- 
munion with God. My spirit was much 
refreshed (though there was no word spoken), 
which made me desire to go again. The next 
time I went, a man Friend stood up, I may say, 
as some said of Christ formerly, 'as one having 
authority, and not as the scribes.' This induced 
me to inquire more particularly into their 
doctrine and mode of worship. I afterwards 
understood that they made it their business in 
meeting to gather into the name of Christ, in 



order to feel His power and blessed presence to 
influence them in all their religious services. 
This they consider a necessary requisite for a 
Gospel minister, in order to enable him to speak 
in the demonstration of the Spirit and with 
power, and to baptise the hearers so that they 
may be strengthened and edified together." 

After this, in the middle of the week as 
well as on First-days, he steadily attended the 
meetings of Friends. He found employment at 
a tailoring shop kept by a party who had no 
sympathy with his mid-week attendance of 
meetings. They withheld his day's pay, one 
dollar, every time he attended the Fourth-day 
meeting. This did not deter him from the 
regular practice ; and he would return from his 
two-hours' absence, and faithfully work the 
remaining hours of the day. Interested fellow- 
boarders found a better situation for him, and he 
eventually, under a guiding and over-ruling 
Providence, became largely blessed in means. 

A time came when, in one of these 
meetings, he was drawn to kneel in prayer, 
which was uttered in the German tongue. A 
Friend, who understood the words, described 
them as of a very touching character. Elders in 
the meeting began to manifest an increased 



interest in him, advising liim to use the English 
Bible instead of his Luther's version, and 
directing his reading in the standard writings of 

After coming of age he was much exercised 
in mind as to applying to be received into mem- 
bership in our religious Society. In earnest 
meditation concerning this step, he would some- 
times walk in his room or in the open air till the 
earl 3^ hours of morning. After he had left the 
question with the Meeting his heart was peace* 
full}^ lightened, as if all the responsibility was 
lifted from him. It was some three years before 
lie was received into membership. Time was 
thus taken to prove the stability of his purpose, 
and the sureness of his growth in the truth. 

The innocent, earnest, and devout character 
of the lad early endeared him to such elders and 
concerned Friends as Jane Johnson, H. Regina 
Shober, Marmaduke C. and Sarah W. Cope, 
Thomas Wistar, and Mary Ann Lloyd, who were 
warmly interested in watching over him for 
good. One day he was sitting in the parlour of 
M. A. Lloyd, when Stephen Grellet came in, to 
whom the young man was introduced. On being- 
left alone with him, Stephen Grellet's mouth was 
opened in a flow of prophetic ministry, en- 



couraging William to look neither to the right 
nor to the left in following the high calling 
which was before him in the ministry of the 
everlasting Gospel. 

In the interest of righteousness he obtained 
interviews with two successive Archbishops of 
the Roman Catholic Church in Philadelphia, 
appearing in their presence without removing 
his hat. He also paid a noteworthy visit to the 
present mayor of the city soon after his entrance 
into office. After some interchange of kindly 
words, a silence came upon them, and at length 
our dear friend opened his mouth in testimony 
for the righteousness which exalteth a nation, 
and against sin which is its reproach : and he set 
forth the high future in store for his hearer, 
should he maintain his integrity, and be faithful 
to the Divine witness in his heart. As he offered 
a solemn and feeling prayer for a blessing upon 
the Executive of so great a city, the few present 
were bowed as in the Divine presence. The 
mayor has since taken occasion to acknowledge 
his appreciation of the grace of love shown in 
such a man ; and the present Archbishop has 
borne similar testimony. 

While a young man, and in middle life, 
William U. Ditzler's leisure time was largely 


occupied in visiting the poor and distressed lin 
the slums of the city, and in teaching them the 
word and way of life. He became a familiar 
figure at night in these haunts of misery, and 
way was always made for him even by the most 
degraded, who offered him no violence, but 
viewed him with respect as a man of God. He 
was especially faithful as a visitor to the prisoners 
in the Eastern Penitentiary, and instances could 
be given of the good influence of his labour 

But to return to the earlier period ; we note 
that after his admission into our religious Society^ 
he occasionally spoke in meetings for worship. 
His use of the English language improved as he 
grew in faithfulness and in grace, and his utter- 
ances became more and more marked by life, 
weight and solemnity. His gift in the ministry 
was acknowledged by his Monthly and Quarterly 
Meetings in 1867, when he was forty-six years 
of age. His vocal service in his own meeting 
never became frequent, but was singularly 
impressive, awakening and reaching to the 
witness for truth in men's hearts, as a gospel 
trumpet giving no uncertain sound. During 
these earnest engagements, and in the solemn 
silence which followed, meetings would seem 




-covered as with the divine presence ; and many, 
in departing to their homes, would say : " Truly, 
•God hath not forgotten his people ! " Especially 
imder his devout exercise in vocal prayer was 
there a manifest overshadowing of the Divine 
anointing. The holy solenmity spread as from 
heart to heart, bowing the congregation under a 
•sense of the majesty of the King of Heaven. 

The life and power of his ministr}^ was more 
especially witnessed during his visits to neigh- 
bourhoods away from the city. His first 
travelling in the service of the gospel was in 
Pennsylvania and New Jersey, mostly during the 
year 1868. Its progress was a severe trial of his 
faith and dedication. But through all apparent 
obstacles a way was made, to his own admiration 
and the satisfaction of the visited. On one 
occasion, when refused admission to a house, a 
holy boldness empowered him to claim entrance 
and lodging. Before he left it, the hearts of the 
heads of the family were tendered and contrited 
under the power of gospel love and faithfulness. 
At one place, having mounted a horse-block in 
front of a' building, while his companion, a 
minister, was engaged within it, he preached 
with power to the assembled out-door company ; 
and a remarkable religious awakening in that 



neighbourhood is said to have followed this 
meeting. Various visits, for which he obtained 
minutes from his Monthly Meeting, included labour 
with mill-hands and operatives, prisoners and 
inmates of charitable institutions, westward as 
far as Columbus, Ohio, and eastward to the sea- 
coast of New Jersey. 

At a meeting appointed in a school-house, a 
man was present whose boast it was to break up 
religious meetings. His mockery of the speaker's 
voice was subdued on this occasion by a power 
felt while the speaker stood silent in the midst 
of his sermon. Feeling this man's state as a 
burden on his mind, William with his companion 
and an elder, drove early in the morning to the 
man's residence, and induced him and his wife 
to listen to the expression of concern for their 
souls' welfare. Before they left the room, both 
the man who had seemed so hardened, and his- 
wife, were on their knees with contrited hearts 
begging for divine mercy. 

While engaged in preaching to the prisoners 
at Reading, Pennsylvania, several men and 
women from the town being also present, he 
made some attempts to use his customary 
expression, " My brethren and sisters" ; but felt 
a stop in his mind before reaching the word 



sisters." In one instance near the end he 
succeeded in saying, " My brethren and sister" ; 
but was prevented by the same check from 
uttering the word " sisters " in the plural. At 
the close of the meeting several who knew, as 
he did not, that among the four hundred in the 
audience, some of them women, there was but 
one female prisoner, expressed their admiration 
at his preservation in the truth. His only 
explanation was that it was by simply minding 
his Guide. 

This quickness to heed the constraints and 
restraints of inward instruction, served him 
better than worldly wisdom in much of his daily 
walk and conversation. On one occasion, having 
dined with his sister in the southern part of the 
city, notwithstanding her entreaties and the rain, 
he felt he must walk instead of taking the street- 
car to his place of business. On the w^ay he was 
addressed by a young woman who, observing 
his garb, asked him if he was not a " Quaker 
Friend." Assured that he was, she proceeded 
to give an account of herself as the daughter of 
:a Florida general, and having come north to 
«tudy. As they were about parting near his 
place of business, she said, " Perhaps you will 
Dot approve of my object in studying. I am 



taking lessons in elocution to qualify me as an 
actress for the stage." His answer was, " Oh !• 
I am sorry for that. My young friend, if thou 
pm'sue this course, darkness will be thy portion. 
But 'they that turn many to righteousness shall 
shine as the stars forever and ever,' " Some two 
weeks afterwards she entered his office, and told 
him that those w^ords had been ringing in her 
ears ever since ; and she had found no peace 
until she had resolved to give up her prospect of 
the stage, and to devote her life, though much 
against her parent's views, to the good of 
benighted natives in a foreign land. At length 
he received a letter from her, written in Siam, 
showing that she was there, engaged in what she 
believed was her mission. 

During part of one summer, while his 
foreman was gone to dinner, he felt drawn, day 
after day, to go to a desk at the rear of his shop, 
and there at an open window to read aloud 
passages from the Bible. This seemed a singular 
proceeding for him. He had never done it 
before, and never did so again. Several weeks 
afterwards a well-known Episcopalian minister 
came into his room and informed William that 
he had been the means of saving one of his 
parishioners. William could not see how or 


when. " Were you not in the habit last summer," 
•said the visitor, " of reading aloud by your back 
window, passages from the holy Scriptures ? " 

I was," he answered. "Yes," replied the 
minister, "and there was, in one of the rooms 
above, a young woman in a state of decline, with 
whom all my labours for the turning of her 
heart to God were without effect. She would 
have nothing to do with religion or pious advice. 
At length she heard your voice ringing out upon 
the air in passages of Scripture. Day after day 
«he listened intently to your readings of the 
Bible. A deep impression was made on her 
conscience, and she at length gave up to repen- 
tance toward God, and faith toward our Lord 
Jesus Christ ; and she died in the peace of 
redeeming love." 

His firm confidence in the clear openings of 
Truth on his mind, seemed one of his strongest 
traits. He must see a truth for himself before 
he would adopt it ; and that which the Witness 
for truth in his heart had once shown him, was 
invincible by argument or persuasion. It is not 
to be supposed that this tenacity of mind would 
always escape the holding of erroneous ideas, 
for he was not exempt from human error. 

His daily vocation was not pursued entirely 



for gain, but also for the employment of others, 
and to give him a central stand in the city for 
what he regarded as a daily mission service. 
Thither men of all persuasions loved to resort, 
ministers of various denominations, concerned 
Friends of his own fellowship, and young men 
and women needing fatherly sympathy and 
counsel, all held by the charm of his interest in 
them, and even at times by the blessing of his 
reproof. Through all his conversation there was 
an exaltation of the spirit above the letter, of 
faith above discouragement, of generosity above 
prejudice, of the heavens above the earth. 
Several ministers of other denominations are 
believed to have had the spiritual quality of their 
teaching improved, through the new light in 
which, in these interviews, they saw the gospel 
dispensation presented. And it is believed that 
not a few young Friends learned to regard him 
as a nursing father ; and in the type of religion 
which he represented, they recognised a living 
argument for Quakerism. 

In the year 1874, William U. Ditzler, feeling 
that his service in Western District Monthly 
Meeting had ceased, and that a Divine call was 
extended to him to transfer his membership to 
Uwchlan Monthly Meeting, moved to a residence 



which he purchased near Downingtown, and 
thenceforward laboured faithfully for the 
spiritual welfare of the meeting and people of 
that neighbourhood, yet coming almost daily to 
his usual occupation iii Philadelphia. Seals to 
his ministry were manifest in that place, and the 
church was in a marked degree edified. At 
length, feeling that he had for twelve years 
expended the most earnest labours of his life- 
time in that meeting, and that he was now 
excused from further service therein, he believed 
that the Lord had need of him in Philadelphia. 
His certificate of removal was granted in 1887, 
and he was sincerely welcomed back to the 
meeting which had been his first home in our 
religious Society. But he continued his residence 
in Downingtown, and came thirty miles to his 
meetings for worship in the city on First-day 
mornings, as regularly as to his business on week- 
days. His service in the meeting was largely in 
silence, and bore impressive testimony to that 
worship and communion which is in spirit and in 

Almost as an evening sacrifice, in the year 
1889, he felt drawn in gospel love to revisit those 
meetings in New Jersey which he had earliest 
visitedj and also many of the prisons and charit- 



able institutions within the borders of the Yearly 
Meeting. This service extended through four 
years, to evident comfort, edifying, and awaken- 
ing in many parts of the field. During a visit 
within the limits of Delaware County, he heard 
that a certain tavern was the headquarters of a 
fox-hunting association, in which many men of 
the surrounding country had an interest. A 
concern at once fell on him to hold a meeting at 
that house for the good of that class of people. 
Attempts were made from time to time to arrange 
for this meeting, but no way seemed to open. 
After some two years, word was brought to him 
that the proprietor of the hotel had died, and his 
funeral would be held on the morrow. William 
Ditzler at once felt that this was his long- 
deferred opportunity. He proceeded to the place, 
and found that the priest who was expected to 
conduct the services, was prevented from coming. 
Whilst waiting for the appointed time, our friend 
had a tendering interview with the widow and 
family in their private room. Another minister 
being obtained, he consented for William to 
occupy a short time after the close of the stated 
service. When the opportunity arrived, and the 
new voice began to be heard, all that could crowd 
into the hall -way and rooms from out-of-doors at 



once flocked in, and stood as it were amazed at 
the demonstration of the spirit and of power in 
which the gospel message rang forth for their 
warning and turning from the power of Satan 
unto God, and unto Him that taketh away the 
sin of the world. When he ceased, the minister 
embraced him with joy for the Divine visitation^ 
the crowd respectfully parted to let him go forth, 
and a solemn impression is spoken of as abiding 
among the people for days. Some who were 
present came on the next First-day to his regular 
meeting for worship in the city; and occasionally 
men of that class have stopped him in the street 
to acknowledge the impression made on their 
feelings upon that occasion. 

During the period of these labours he was 
prostrated with a severe attack of pneumonia. 
His physician, when he had seen the fever pass 
what was deemed the fatal mark, took an 
opportunity to say to him, " If you have anything 
to say, sa}^ it ; or to sign, sign it." To his 
surprise his patient began to recover. The 
doctor said to him, "This unexpected turn for 
the better is due to your simple and temperate 
habits of life. You never took alcoholic drinks, 
you never chewed nor smoked tobacco, you have 
never been indulgent of appetite. Had any of 



these been your practice, you could not have 
survived the violence of this attack. Your pure 
and clean life has saved you." But William U. 
Ditzler had seen in his sickness a vision of a 
further extended time before him which he must 
occupy for others' good. While never free from 
much bodii}^ infirmity after his illness, he was 
especially a sufferer during the last two years of 
his life, in consequence of a severe accident. 

He bore his daily sufferings with great 
fortitude, continuing, when possible, his regular 
journeys to his city store, constantly waiving his 
own sense of pain, and hiding his anxiety on 
behalf of those near and dear to him, that in self 
forgetfulness he might enter into the states and 
troubles of those who so much resorted to his 
society. At length a final attack of pneumonia 
laid him low, and after a week, passed mostly in 
apparent unconsciousness, he entered, we cannot 
but believe, into the reward enjoyed by those, 
who, having turned many to righteousness, shine 
as the stars for ever and ever. 

The foregoing incidents in the life of our 
valued Friend have been adduced to show the 
sufficiency of Divine grace for man, when heed 
is given to it. "Not b}^ might, nor by power, 
but by my Spirit, saith the Lord o£ Hosts." It is 



not to intellectual ability or culture, that his life 
and power in the ministry can be ascribed ; but 
it was his childlike trust in the immediate and 
perceptible direction of the Spirit of Christ. This 
gave him success in word and in work, only as 
it was permitted to prevail. His eye was kept 
remarkably single to this guidance, in the love 
and patience of Christ, whose gentleness made 
him great. It invested and imbued him with a 
rare sweetness of spirit and a tender sympathy 
of heart, to such a degree that even the worldly 
minded took knowledge of him that he was with 
Jesus. That steadfast adherence to the inward 
and Holy Witness, which was the characteristic 
of his career, is essential, as he believed, to bring 
the church of his choice, as it did his own life, 
out of the wilderness, and to give it once more 
that shining place among men, of which his life 
was an illustration.